A Servant Wife
by shouldbecleaning
Summary: It certainly wasn't in his plans when he woke that morning but somehow, someway, Edward Masen left his farm one late spring morning to stock up on supplies with his children and came home with a new wife. Not a real wife, like the I'll love you to the ends of time kind of wife, but a servant who was also his wife on paper, kind of half of each.
1. Chapter 1

**No copyright infringement intended. Please see horribly long note at end of chapter.**

Chapter 1

Colorado - 1892

It certainly wasn't in his plans when he woke that morning but somehow, someway, Edward Masen left his farm one late spring morning to stock up on supplies with his children and came home with a new wife. Not a real wife, like the I'll love you to the ends of time kind of wife, but a servant who was also his wife on paper, kind of half of each.

Edward Masen woke that morning and upon finding the sky clear and the sun bright, decided it would be a good day to go to town. After chores, an unsatisfactory breakfast and wrangling his kids, Edward set off with his best horse and small cart to make the trip to town. The winter had been long and hard. Harder still was losing his wife, Rachel, to fever not a month into the snowfall. The ground hadn't frozen completely so Edward was able to bury her properly, but inclement weather made him unable to go to town safely. He had been alone, without househelp or comfort, raising two small children for many months. He was grateful for Rachel's planning and organization because he was able to do his own chores and keep them fed over the winter. Other than to restock and barter, Edward was going into town to find a woman. He was hoping to find a widow or such to keep house and help with the boys. He needed her to be a cross between a governess and maid with some farming help in between. He had neither the time nor the inclination to woo and marry a girl.

Edward had cared for Rachel, appreciated her and enjoyed her. But he didn't know if he loved her. Not the fairytale kind of love the girls he went to school with were always gushing about. He was sad for himself and the boys when she died; he even cried. He just wasn't sure what he felt. It was entirely too confusing to go into and he'd rather think of all the work for him to do back at the farm.

It was almost a sin how prideful Edward was about his farm. Second only to the love for his children, he loved his farm. And rightly so, for the toil and work of his own two hands proved to be very fruitful. He had started with nothing but a scrubby plot of land that had gone unsold for years. Edward, seeing what others could not, guessed that its potential had been overlooked by many. Its neglect was possibly due to the amount of work it would need. He had chosen the best parts of the spread for his farmhouse, a nice flat tract of land nestled in a small natural valley, and had been able to buy it for a song. The hills on three sides weren't too high, but high enough to give him the feeling that he was the only man on earth most days. He managed, by himself, to work several acres of good farmland over the years. There were woods nearby for game and a stream for fish. An industrious wife and a warm home; what more could a man ask for in life?

Edward had the forethought to build a cabin with two bedrooms and a loft. The house was right filthy by the time Rachel arrived, and was filthy now that she was no longer there to keep it up. Edward tried his best, but there was only so much women's work he was willing to tackle. And then there were his boys, Emmett and Jasper. Good, solid, healthy boys. Emmett was coming to an age where he could be a real help to his father. At six, he came up to Edward's waist and it looked as though he might outgrow his papa's height and be well over six feet, not just Edward's six foot on the dot. He had brown eyes like Edward's father and brown hair darker than anyone else in the family. It may have come from Rachel's family line, because the Masens tended to run lighter in hair colour. Where Jasper's blond came from, Edward couldn't rightly tell but it wasn't the white-blond of Edward's best friend Carlisle; he knew that for certain. Although, once into the whiskey, his friend liked to joke that it might be a possibility. That was one of the reasons Rachel didn't quite warm to him.

Carlisle was a trapper and trader who wandered the woods and kept no home. He was happy living rough. He said he was too wild a man to take a wife and make roots. When they were out hunting, far away from Rachel's hearing, he did admit he'd like some regular feminine touch but not enough to keep one around all the time. Too much effort on his part. He was happy with his biannual trip to the brothel two towns over.

Now Jasper, his youngest son, was a bit peculiar. He was a good boy. He did what his daddy asked of him and listened to his mother, too. But Jasper seldom spoke. He was three and quiet. Edward could take him out to the barn, set him in a corner and the boy would amuse himself for hours. Maybe he was quiet because Emmett was so chatty. Last fall, before Rachel died, Carlisle took Emmett on a two-day fishing trip. Jasper didn't speak a word the whole time Emmett was gone, and not for days after he got back. Edward had never known a more contemplative child. Now, if the boys got into a fight, Jasper could hold his own. He could outyell even Edward himself. He had a good vocabulary and spoke clearly when he did talk. He was smaller than his brother was at the same age, but not weak or sickly. Jasper was just a small, quiet guy.

The only time Edward felt he knew true love is when he looked at his boys. He wished he had loved their Ma as much as he loved them. Life would have been sweeter. However, from the time she answered his post looking for a bride to the day she died, all Edward felt was a real fondness for her. And she was a good wife. Rachel knew exactly what he needed before he even knew himself sometimes. She knew if he was going to be extra hungry and she'd make a big dinner. She knew when it was time to make a batch of liniment for his sore muscles. The house was always clean, his clothes mended, the garden lush and his meals hot. If Rachel hadn't died this winter, they were going to work on making a girl baby for her. A sweet little girl to help out around the house when the boys got big. Now he was heading to town with a long list and a mind to get himself some help.

* * *

The three-and-a-half miles were easier going than coming. Mostly downhill with an empty cart meant that the boys could ride and bounce in the cart and Edward could ride the horse. The way back would take some maneuvering but he'd see about that later. It was Jasper's first trip to town, well, as a little gaffer. He rode in Rachel's arms a few times when he was a babe. Edward and Emmett went alone every time last year. Jasper kicked up a fuss at being separated from Rachel and she chose to stay at home with him.

Never one for shopping Rachel would give Edward her list. She would then spend the time alone doing God only knows what women do when they're alone. Her lists were always practical, he gathered; he'd never actually read them but preferred to pass them still folded to the shopkeeper. Just the essentials, no ribbons, doodads or candy. If Rachel asked for fabrics they were always plain-coloured, sturdy weight cottons or such. She'd rely on Mrs. Newton to choose the best for what she needed. Rachel was never one for reading, save for a bit of family bible on Sundays in lieu of trekking to town for church service. Her hands were always busy with cooking, cleaning or mending. Her menfolk created a lot of mending. Emmett was likely to grow out of a new shirt a week after the sewing of it was finished.

Rachel held to a very strict routine, day in and day out, week to week. Monday was for bread making, Tuesday canning, salting or pickling, Wednesday bedrooms were turned out and linens replaced. Thursday was wash day, Friday was ironing. Saturday was heavy gardening; she and Jasper pulled weeds and watered a bit every day. Sunday was more relaxation and contemplation. Sometimes they packed a picnic and sat by the stream. Other times they wandered to a meadow just the other side of one of the hills and enjoyed the outside. On meadow days, she would ask them to gather as much clover as they could and make some honey sweets. It was a nice life, nothing fancy or exciting, but with purpose. Rachel hardly ever talked about her life before Edward and he didn't really think to ask. She was content, perhaps occasionally sad, but as long as Edward's needs were met, he let her be. He didn't want to bother too much with her moods; they were some of those woman-things that had little to do with men.

That was the way Edward had been raised; to leave woman-things to the women and concentrate on his own, more important manly affairs. Unless it was at the dinner table or undercovers in the dark, men and womenfolk just didn't mix too much. A woman's head was far too full of homelife to carry a meaningful conversation anyway. Or at least that was the way his father, Edward Sr., explained it when Jr. found himself looking sideways at a pretty girl in town one day.

Edward kept those teachings close after he moved from home so he wouldn't get easily taken in by a girl in a pretty dress and live his life for her instead of for the land. And his father's advice had proven true and timely; for once he had a spread of his own, Edward was able to work it, marry and still concentrate on the land without losing his senses to a woman. His wife, Rachel, was a welcome addition but not a distraction to the work. Edward came to think of acquiring a wife much the same as investing in a newer, sharper plow; both allowed him to work the land better and more efficiently. Sure, he could have fared well without either, but they did help in the long run.

Emmett was made to walk for the last mile of the journey. Growing bored with riding in the cart, he turned his mind to pinching his brother to entertain himself. Jasper endured the pain for only so long before hauling off and whaling on his older, bigger brother. Their yells alerted Edward and he separated the pair quickly. Emmett, pleased that he had gotten his way yet again, gamboled off into the woods to the side of the trail in hopes of chasing a rabbit or two. Jasper was even more pleased because he could now lay flat in the cart and watch the clouds as they danced around the sky. Edward's mind was solely on the trip and finding a woman to help them.

He'd found ten dollars tucked into Rachel's bible and it was burning a hole in his pocket. He was flush with cash leftover from last year's crop and perhaps, if he was able to find a buyer for Rachel's piano, he might just have enough to buy a few more acres to farm. There was a small plot next to his that hadn't yet sold. It would be hard work to get it ready, but Edward was never one to shy away from a challenge, especially not a physical one. He could put in the extra hours with no problem knowing there was someone there to take care of all the other chores. And Emmett was finally big enough to be a real help around the farm. Although, the boy was mischievous and prone to wandering; Edward would have to find a way to keep him on-task without resorting to the strap the way his own father had.

His father, Edward Sr. was very generous with the strap, employing it often to both his wife and child, so Elizabeth held little sympathy for her child when he complained. Edward vowed to never raise his hand in anger to his family. To this date, he had never has broken this vow. After all, Emmett was such an imp, it was difficult to punish him at all. Jasper was so quiet, if he'd ever broken any rules Edward didn't know about them, and Rachel was steadfast and did what was asked of her. She never gave him cause to correct her in that manner. Edward often wondered what his mother did to earn the strap or if it was a failing with the way his father led the household.

 **AN: Many, many thanks to Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc, and IpsitaC77 for their helping touch with this story. Really, I gave them a steaming pile of...clay...and they each moulded it into a much better form layer by layer.**

 **There are opinions expressed by some characters that I personally find abhorrent but are appropriate for the time period. Please know, none of us involved with this story approve or condone domestic violence in any way.**

 **This story is loosely based on the film, _Rachel and The Stranger,_ RKO Radio Pictures c. 1948. If you have the chance to watch it; it's just lovely.**

 **I have not abandoned Uncredited, I am still working on it, but it is slow going. As soon as a chapter is ready, I'll send it out.**

 **I had thought of entering this into the Age of Edward contest but it became much too wordy. I can't wait to read what comes from the contest. As you might have guessed, I am partial to Historical stories.**

 **I might not be able to answer reviews, should you choose to leave one, but please know I adore each and every one. I plan to have a new chapter to you each week. I do have 14 of them written already.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I am grateful to Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc, and IpsitaC77 for their help and hand-holding. I would be lost without them.**

Chapter 2

The sounds of town reached them long before the sight of it. The people calling to one another, the whinny and nicker of horses, the banging clatter of the blacksmiths and the whirr of industry made Edward cringe a little. He did not like the nearby town, he found it was too busy. With over one thousand people in a single place, it was too much for him. Whenever he had to go for business or supplies, all of them seemed to be around, as if they planned it or had a lookout for him. As the small family walked through the last of the woods to the edge, Edward could see how much the place had grown in the last few months since he had been there, and he wasn't pleased. There were new buildings and a huge painted sign. _**Welcome to River Forks, pop. 1206.**_ Edward shuddered at the thought of sharing space with twelve hundred other people. He walked as quickly as he could to Newton's Mercantile. He wanted to get his supplies and his woman and leave as quickly as possible before the bustle of town drove him crazy.

After leaving his list with Mrs. Newton and his horse and cart tied at the blacksmith, Edward and his boys went to the hotel to inquire if there were any women looking for work. Mr. Yorkie, who ran the hotel and boarding house, knew of a few ladies recently arrived in town and directed Edward to the laundry. Mr. Yorkie was well known to be the eyes and ears of the town. If there were any goings-on, Mr. Yorkie would know of them in an instant.

There wasn't much mining done in the hills around River Forks, but enough to keep a laundry service open. The man who ran it was a former railroad builder from China. After an injury, he quit the railroad and made a home in River Forks. No one could pronounce his name, so they took to calling him Stanley. He was now Mr. Stanley and wealthy by town standards. He was able to afford to bring his wife over from China. Mr. Stanley was the first employer of any females who came by rail or carriage in search of respectable work. He and his petite wife ran a combination laundry, employment service and marriage brokerage all rolled into a perpetually steamy building. Mr. Stanley often held the debts of several women at the same time and let them work it off in his laundry, after paying for room and board, that is. He'd sell the debt, but only if the woman agreed to the match.

It was a well-known secret that Mrs. Stanley was the ruler of their household. Mr. Stanley spoke English quite well, although with a thick accent. Mrs. Stanley, however, had only mastered one word and employed it frequently. _**No.**_ All day long she could be heard using her word in various volumes and tones. Edward found her curiously striking; so different from all the women he had seen around this town or the ones where he grew up. However, he was very happy not to be married to her.

Mrs. Stanley was really, really short; the shortest adult Edward had ever seen. She reminded him of the dolls they had for sale at the general store, the ones made of porcelain and dressed real fancy. But then she would open her mouth and shriek her single word, causing her husband to come running to her. The sound of her voice carried for at least a mile, if not more. Edward wondered if Mr. Stanley did anything to save himself from going deaf, like stuff cotton in his ears, or if he was able to ignore her willfully after years of marriage. He also cringed at the thought that Mrs. Stanley'd shriek like that at the poor man in their marriage bed as well. Edward decided that any woman he got to keep his house had to have a gentle speaking voice. He wouldn't live with a banshee for love nor money.

Mr. Yorkie told Edward that there were three women available for hire and Stanley was in a good mood today, therefore he'd be receptive to a deal. Mr. Yorkie expressed his condolences for Edward's loss. The winter had been hard on folks all over the valley, so hearing of Rachel's death wasn't too much of a shock. The town's main preacher was away, ministering in a nearby mine. Yorkie promised Edward he'd let the man know about the change in the Masen family for the town record when he returned in a few days. Yorkie further offered to look after the boys while Edward bargained with Stanley for a new woman. Edward slapped a dime in Yorkie's palm to pay for the plates of chocolate cake and pints of milk he knew his boys would eat and warned them to behave.

* * *

Eric Yorkie watched Edward walk across the street and down to the laundry. Masen had always been a stiff, starched shirt and the loss of his wife did nothing to soften him. He wasn't unfriendly or rude whenever he came to town; he was unfailingly polite. He remembered to ask after the wives and children of the men he did business with and he would help out as soon as asked, for instance when the new school house needed to be built or when the Copes' barn burnt to the ground and the town organized a raising. Masen was never quick with a smile or a laugh, he didn't socialize much or attend functions. Yorkie only knew of one person with whom Edward was friendly - that trapper fellow, Carlisle. Yorkie could see how the women folk reacted whenever Masen came into town. Their eyes followed him like a fat kid watching a pudding being passed around a table, just hoping they would be able to have a big spoonful, or lick the bowl clean. He didn't know what it was that made the man so attractive to the womenfolk, but it made him glad that Masen came to town so seldom; it left the ladies for the other gents. There were rumours of a new schoolmarm coming in the fall. Maybe Yorkie would be able to woo her himself before Masen came back to town. He turned his attention back to his work, dreaming of pretty schoolteachers and the scent of chalk dust.

* * *

The steamy heat coming from Stanley's laundry wafted across Edward's face and brought a bit of colour to his cheeks. Mrs. Stanley trotted over to him and began to fuss. Edward took a moment to look down at his attire. His boots were filthy, his denims worn at the hem and fraying. His shirt could have stood a washing and he was in desperate need of a shave. It hadn't occurred to Edward before leaving home to tidy himself. After all, he was only shopping and finding a housekeeper; he wasn't here to impress anyone.

Mr. Stanley hushed his wife and shook Edward's hand. He confirmed that there were three women working for him whose debts could be purchased. He ushered Edward into his office and ran off to collect the girls. Edward waited, feeling odd at the prospect of, for all intents and purposes, purchasing someone. It had felt peculiar advertising for a wife, but somehow this was different. He was paying to have a woman serve him in many of the same ways his wife had, but without the marital congress he so enjoyed. He began to daydream about cold nights spent in the arms of his wife and the pleasures found there.

As an older boy, maybe fourteen, Edward had discovered the thrill of his own touch and thought it the pinnacle of pleasure. He did it as often as he could without his parents' knowledge. His mother had lectured him on sins of the flesh quite frequently when he was much younger. His father beat those same lessons into him with a strap long before he understood what they were talking about. He hadn't even thought of doing it until they started in on him, so Edward reasoned it was their fault for putting the idea into his head. Once he understood and put two and two together, he continued to do it, but with guilt.

Instinct took over when Rachel became his bride and although it was obvious he enjoyed it much more than she did, she never turned him away or complained. He tried to please her as best he knew how, but Rachel seemed to look at it as a chore to be done rather than anything else. She did tell him she liked kissing him and being held in his arms, so as soon as they were behind closed doors, under cover of the night, they were together that way. Every few nights Rachel would utter the words that made Edward's blood race - _'Edward, you may'_.

Edward's thoughts were interrupted by Mr. Stanley's return. He introduced Edward to the three ladies. Stanley had asked all three and they were amenable to working a farm and raising children.

The first, Jane, was short and stooped due to age; not much taller than Emmett. She had a sour, pinched look on her face and no life in her eyes. She looked to be ancient for she was weathered and worn. She looked older than Edward's mother and his mother'd been dead for a few years now. Edward didn't think she would be any use at the farm and would possibly be mean to the boys. He couldn't quite put a finger on why, but there was an air of cruelty about her, like some fairytale witches he remembered from his childhood. Stanley said she was the widow of three different husbands. Edward gulped at that news; he didn't want to know if she'd helped her husbands to the grave unnaturally.

The second was a woman near Edward's height and around the same age as him at around thirty. She had blond hair braided and coiled about her head. She was the most beautiful woman Edward had ever seen in his life. Her eyes were an intriguing shade of golden brown, light like honey. Edward knew there was no way he could have this siren alone with him at his farm with growing boys. Mr. Stanley introduced her as Irina and mentioned she was married, but her husband was in the stockade at the nearby fort. She stepped forward and tried to kiss Edward on the cheek. She purred a hello to him and winked lasciviously. Edward felt his stomach flip. There was no chance in hell a woman this loose was coming anywhere near his boys. He wanted a hard-working woman, not a floozy.

By default, Edward turned a favourable eye to the third young lady. Mr. Stanley introduced her as Isabella. She was of a good age to work; looked humble, sweet, and kind. Edward noted her average face, brown hair and brown eyes, trim figure and gentle stature. Her hair was pulled back from her face very tight and under a lace-edged cap. She looked strong enough so he knew she could work the farm. She wasn't so beautiful as to distract him from his work and lead him into temptation. However, there was still a problem with Isabella.

Isabella was nineteen. She wasn't the spinster or widow Edward was hoping for. She was of prime marriageable age and smart; Mr. Stanley said that she could read, write, and factor sums. It wouldn't do to have her just working at his farm, it wasn't proper. They would be looked down upon and his boys would be ridiculed. He could imagine there would be gossip and innuendo about Isabella's real purpose. It could be seen as scandalous, leading the townsfolk to question his intentions or his honour. Edward realized he would have to marry her to protect her and his family's name.

Heaving a great sigh and refusing to look her in the eye, he came to an agreement with Mr. Stanley. Isabella's owings were not too steep, only sixteen dollars, so Edward still had more than enough for supplies with some leftover. She was agreeable to working in Edward's house for as long as it took to play off her debt. A term of four years was negotiated to include room and board as well as clothing.

Once all the dealings had been worked out, Edward instructed the girl to gather her things and he walked away to find the pastor. After arranging his wedding, Edward retrieved his children and took them back to the laundry to get Isabella. She stood there waiting for him with a sizeable carpet bag and a small basket. She had changed out of her white uniform and was wearing a plain blue gingham dress that fit her nicely; the uniform had been saggy. Her hair was looser than before and gathered in a bun at the nape of her neck with a few pieces loose and trailing to frame her face. The less severe styling made her look a bit prettier and she broke into a great smile when she saw Emmett and Jasper. Edward was encouraged by her smile. Perhaps he made the right choice with this girl.

 **AN: Holy crap, you guys sure know how to make a girl feel good. I'm astounded by the interest in this story.**

 **This story is loosely based on the film, _Rachel and The Stranger,_ RKO Radio Pictures c. 1948. **

**Thank you for reading.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Very many thanks to Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc, and IpsitaC77 for their help with this story. No copyright infringement intended. Loosely based on _Rachel and The Stranger_ , RKO Radio Pictures, 1948.**

 **Chapter 3**

Not bothering to introduce his children to the girl, he hustled the small group over to the park in the centre of town. Pastor Weber had agreed to meet them there to perform the quick ceremony. Edward felt it wasn't fitting to marry the girl in the church; it felt like lying somehow, and while he wasn't a godly man at all, he didn't like the ill-ease in the pit of his stomach.

As they neared the pastor standing under a tree with his bible in his hand and his wife and daughter just to the side, Isabella stopped him.

"Wait."

Edward turned to face her but the boys kept walking. They knew the pastor's daughter, Angela, and she almost always had a pocket full of sweets that she'd give to good boys and girls around town.

"What is going on here?" She dropped her bag and basket.

"Well, it wouldn't be right having you at the farm and not being married. Folks'd talk and my boys don't need any scandal attached to them. It's just not fitting having an unmarried woman on my farm around my kids." Edward spoke as if it were a simple thing that Isabella just couldn't grasp.

"No. I agreed to work for you to pay off my debt. Cooking, cleaning and general housework. I am not paying off my debt in your bed, Mister. I may be owing, but there isn't money enough in the whole state worth that." She rested one hand, curled into a tight fist, on her waist. Isabella looked like she'd use it if she had to. _That's good_ , Edward thought, _if she can stand up to me some she might not let the boys run all over her._

"Hush up now. It is just a precaution against gossip. It's for everyone's benefit. Once you're paid up and if you want to leave, then we'll just get an annulment. I have no plans to have you in my bed anyway. You'd still be a servant and I'll treat you as such, but you'd be my wife on paper. And, if anything should happen to me, I've got no other family. I'd need someone to look after my boys and my farm until Emmett is of age." Isabella cut her eyes at Edward as if to discern the truth from his face. He very seldom showed emotion, but he tried to give her an appeasing smile. It turned out crooked, but she nodded her assent anyway.

Bella knew too well what could happen to a child left without a guardian. She had seen and experienced the outcome enough herself. There was no way she'd let these boys hurt like that, not if she could help it. Also, this wasn't the worst proposal she'd received, not by far. At least this man was of a reasonable age, semi-clean and seemed sober, with an income and prospects. With Mr. Stanley's recommendation in his favour to add to his merit, he was a decent choice for a man.

"Now, you're not getting this job unless you make your vow and marry me. I can get my money back from Stanley and you can work it off doing strangers' wash, or you can have a home with me and my boys." Edward added the extra threat to keep Isabella in her place. He didn't want her getting any romantic notions in her head that he'd fall in love with her. That was never going to happen, 'cause if it didn't happen with Rachel like some claimed it would when he signed up for the mail-order service, chances were Edward just wasn't the type capable of romantic love anyway.

Pastor Weber smiled at them as if they were a young couple deep in the throes of love. He acted that way with every couple he married, even the ones with no choice in the matter. His wife always cried as if it were the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, regardless of the circumstance that brought a couple together. His daughter attended these proceedings as witness often, but it was clear to her the two people pledging their lives to each other today were an uncomfortable pair. While her father waited patiently for the bride to say 'I do', Angela's stomach fluttered with the possibility the bride would say 'no'. She let out a heavy breath at the romance of it all when Isabella agreed to the marriage before this group and God.

With great stealth so as not to embarrass the groom, Angela surreptitiously removed her mother's wedding ring. Mrs. Weber startled, but upon seeing Angela's pleading eyes didn't say anything. It wasn't the first time Mrs. Weber's ring had been borrowed for an impromptu wedding, although most of the time there was a shotgun employed. When it was free, Angela slipped it into the hand of the unbelievably handsome, but aloof, groom. He blinked at it for a second before the pastor asked for the ring to be presented.

Edward gently placed the ring on Isabella's finger and finished his vows. He said them as he was told, but didn't really mean all of them as they were intended. He wasn't going to love her, but he was going to honour her for the work she would do for him. He was going to remain faithful owing to the lack of opportunity, the scarcity of other women near his farm and his general wariness of womankind. He would leave her all his goods and the care of his children, for he knew if she wasn't the type to run out on a debt, she wouldn't be the type to hightail it and leave the boys as orphans. He supposed the good feeling he had towards her would be cherishing enough for their purposes.

Edward pressed the smallest, quickest kiss on his bride's cheek when the pastor said to, so quick that she stumbled back a bit with momentum. He shook the pastor's hand, slipped him a dollar as payment and turned to his new bride. Isabella was looking thunderstruck and staring at her ring.

"Oh, right." Edward reached for her hand and plucked the ring off, handing it back to Mrs. Weber. Isabella opened and closed her fist a few times as if to rid herself of the feeling the ring had left there.

"Boys, Emmett and Jasper, this here is Isabella. She's going to come live with us and do all of your mama's chores, your schooling and such." Edward jerked his thumb in her direction while speaking to his sons, touching each of them on the head as he spoke their names.

All three Masen men turned their eyes to her and only one of them smiled.

"Do I have to call her _Mama_?" Emmett asked petulantly.

"No, she's not your mama. She's going to be our servant, kind of. You can call her _Isabella_ ," Edward told his oldest. Jasper was the one with the smile on his face. Of all of them, the littlest boy missed having a woman around the most and this woman looked nice to him.

Isabella bristled at Edward's dismissal. She would have liked to introduce herself to the boys in a way that wouldn't put her at a disadvantage. She tried not to let the hurt show and she did an excellent job; her smile never faltered.

"Is-Bella." Jasper said in a quiet voice, shocking his father and older brother.

She crouched down to look Jasper in the eye. He liked that, having her at his level. It didn't hurt his neck so much to look up to her and he could see her eyes much better, even if they were a bit wet.

"My father called me _Bella_. You can too, if you like, Jasper." She held out her hand and waited. Jasper beamed when he placed his tiny hand in hers and shook it like grown-ups. She didn't speak to him like he was a baby, and he liked that.

"All right, then... Isabella. Get your things, we have to get going to make it back before too late in the day. It's a long haul back to the farm." Edward missed the look of happiness on his boy's face and the look of resignation on Bella's. He led his small family back to Newton's and loaded the cart with his supplies.

"Please, Mister? Do you mind if I get a few things I need?" Bella asked hesitantly.

"You need money?" Edward answered curtly.

"No, sir."

Edward nodded but didn't say anything. He didn't rightly know what womenfolk needed and thought it best to let her get on with it by herself.

Mrs. Stanley had pressed a half-dollar into Bella's hand as she was leaving the laundry. She tugged on Bella's skirt, shook her head and gently said her one word of English, letting Bella know to spend the money to get material for a new dress. The gingham was worn and wouldn't last much longer. Bella had worked very hard at the laundry without complaint, and Mrs. Stanley felt badly for the girl. She knew Bella had not been raised for this kind of life; Bella should have had a passel of servants of her own, instead of becoming one herself. However, she took to her new life with grim determination and grace. Mrs. Stanley recognised this and wanted to give the girl a little something back. The money wouldn't stretch as far as a whole new wardrobe befitting a farm wife rather than an laundress, but Bella was able to get a generous length of slightly stained blue broadcloth the same shade as her gingham. Betwixt the two, she'd be able to make a serviceable skirt or two and possibly a couple of blouses, enough to last through the hard work of farm life until sturdier clothing was needed in winter. Bella did her best not to overthink the situation in which she now found herself. No good would come of fretting over it. It was what it was, and there nothing to be done but work hard.

Bella paid for the broadcloth, a large square of absorbent cotton, a spool of thread and had a penny left over for a small bag of sweets. Mr. Newton winked at her as he wrapped her package and walked her to the door.

"Good day, miss, hope you'll be back soon." He meant no harm; he was a older man flirting with a pretty girl but Edward took offence. Newton was never this friendly with Rachel and it bristled him to have his new wife treated like that. He pulled himself up to his considerable height and scowled at Newton.

"She's a _Mrs_. now. _Mrs. Masen_. You'd do well to remember that for next time, Mr. Newton." Edward all but growled at the man.

"So sorry, I didn't know." Newton changed his demeanor immediately. He did not flirt with married women; his wife wouldn't allow it.

Bella stared at Edward. The man was a walking enigma and a complete contradiction. But lord, was he handsome. She had seen sculptures in Paris and London with faces to rival that of her husband. However, he was every bit as cold as those marble men and Bella wasn't sure yet if she even liked him.

Edward filled the cart with boxes, bags and crates. He made a bit of a nest for Jasper to perch upon and lifted Emmett up to ride on the horse's back and then remembered the woman he had just married. There was no room left for her carpet bag or her basket. He felt guilty because it looked to be a heavy load she was carrying. He didn't even think to leave room for them when packing. He shot her a sheepish look and prodded his horse to start walking. Bella followed after the little family, wondering if she would ever be included as a member or if she was destined to be overlooked for the next four years.

 **AN: My dear readers, you continue to amaze me with your response. I'm away from home right now but your comments will be a fabulous treat for my return. I am ever so grateful. Thank you for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you to Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77 for their efforts keeping this story readable.**

 **Chapter 4**

The trip back to the farm took an hour longer than the trip to town. The horse was burdened with the weight of the goods Edward had arranged to buy. The hills were against them, more than half the journey was uphill. Edward was hampered with feelings he could not identify and did not appreciate. Something about this girl was troubling him. Perhaps it was her eyes and the way she looked at him. Maybe it was her slender figure that made her seem like a sapling bowed under the weight of snow. She seemed not weak, but somehow delicate. She didn't complain or fuss that she had to carry her bags, she didn't huff and bother like Emmett did when he was asked to do a chore he didn't like, such as washing his ears. She didn't do what he expected a girl to do under the circumstances, like fuss and cry. He wasn't accustomed to having feelings other than pride in his children and his accomplishments; those were joyous feelings, not ones that felt leaden in his belly. Edward blamed the sudden change in his life for his current emotional state and queerness but mostly, he blamed the girl. As soon as she was properly in her place in his home, he was sure the odd feelings would wane and life would go on as smoothly as it had before.

What Edward did know and was rather grateful for, was the lack of fuss during this trip as opposed to many of the others. There were no mothers eyeing him for their daughters, no old ladies patting his cheeks and teasing him about his face, calling him pretty or handsome. Most importantly, the painted ladies from the saloon stayed inside and didn't call to him from across the street. That was the part that really embarrassed him.

* * *

Bella was tired and not prepared to walk three plus miles uphill while carrying all her belongings, but she knew not to complain. The man had paid her debt. He would keep food in her belly and a roof over her head for as long as it took for her to pay him back. The work she would have to do would be simpler and much less back-breaking than working in a laundry. She was also now safe from the lowly men who would have paid her debt and expected her to work it off on her back with her legs in the air. At least this man, Mr. Masen, did not seem that type and it was for that reason she didn't complain about the walk. He made it plain she wasn't a wife, she was a servant and Bella would act accordingly.

The boys were a lovely surprise in her new life. They seemed well cared for and loved. That in itself was cause for joy; if they were well looked after and happy, perhaps she would be as well. Bella had never been struck, not once in her life and she wanted to keep it that way. She knew of many men who hit their children, wives and servants. Bella had witnessed it and its aftermath for herself. This man, this Edward, didn't come across as one of those. Nor did he seem an affectionate father like the one she had grown up with. Bella's father had adored her, kissed her frequently and listened to her every word as if it were gospel. Her mother was warm as well, sweet and gentle. She was well-born and educated; she insisted that Bella get as much education as possible, both in school and through travel.

How Bella found herself as servant to a rough woods farmer in some strange western state was enough to make her head spin. However, here she was with two dresses to her name, three books, Mama's hair combs and Papa's silk handkerchief. Everything else of any worth had been sold to pay her debt.

The terrain eased a bit and they started a smoother descent into a pretty valley. There were fewer boulders and tree roots to watch out for. Bella could see parts of the farm ahead. She was quite surprised at the size of it. She'd had no idea she had married well and not to just some scrub farmer. There was a winding body of water, too big to be called a creek, yet too small for a river, that snaked through the land. There was a large barn and paddock, a chicken coop and pig shed. Along with several acres of flat, tilled land there was a huge vegetable garden covered over with straw alongside the house. As they drew closer, Bella could see that the house was a good distance from the water and well-elevated should the water swell. From what little Bella knew, it was nice, as farms go.

* * *

When they arrived back at the farm, Edward was shocked there had been no conversation, no chatter from anyone in their party for the entire journey. Emmett was not well known for holding his tongue and could usually be found almost narrating his life as it happened. For him to not talk for such a long period of time was odd, although wonderfully peaceful. If it hadn't been for his own brain screaming at him, Edward would have enjoyed the journey immensely. Part of what had him tied up in knots was every time he turned to check on Jasper's well-being, he saw the boy staring at the new girl with a look of adoration that had once been reserved for Rachel. It bothered him to have Jasper fall for the girl so completely and so quickly, when he himself had no idea how he felt about the woman who was now his wife. What a fine kettle of fish he found himself in now.

Emmett jumped off the horse as soon as they reached the edge of the farm and ran to the house. He let the door slam behind him and was back out of the house, fishing rod in hand, before the noise could stop echoing through the valley. The other horse nickered and the pigs squealed at Edward's return. He led the cart and horse to the house and began to untether them. He reached his arms out to Jasper to help him down but the little boy refused his father's help. Jasper turned to Bella and held his arms out for her. Bella stashed her bag by a fence post and wrapped Jasper in her embrace, lifting him down and setting him on the ground. He immediately put his hand in hers and held on tightly. Jasper carried her basket into the house proudly as Edward saw to the horse, cart, and supplies, leaving Bella with one hand free to carry her carpet bag.

The wide area between the house and the other farm buildings was hard-packed dirt. Bella could easily imagine the muddy mess there when it rains. A series of flat river stones leading up to the house would be lovely and would help cut down on the amount of floor washing. When she got to know her husband better, she might just ask for this improvement. It could be a fun job for the whole family; she could almost picture a day spent working and laughing together. Bella stopped walking suddenly, lost in thought. She had a family. It had been a long time since she'd had a family of her own. Even if this one turned out to be temporary, it was hers for now. She smiled down at Jasper before resuming the short walk to the house. Edward darted ahead, arms full of bundles, muttering something about lamps and lights. Bella swallowed a giggle and made no noise.

There were five steps up to the house. Bella found that odd until she looked under the wide steps to find the house sitting on a stone foundation. It looked as if the cabin had a proper cellar for storage. It was a fine addition to the house, hopefully with ample room for canned goods and staples. The cellar gave the house an air of permanence in a part of the country known for migration as the country expanded west.

The main room of the cabin was dim, but a few more candles and a good scrub of the windows would cure that. Smack in the middle of the room was a ladder leading to a small loft under the peak of the roof. A large fireplace was to one side and a wood stove with a generous oven to the other. Under one of the front windows was a trough sink and Bella thought it was a lovely place to do the washing up; to be able to watch the farm workings as she toiled. The back wall had two doors with a bookcase in between. There were only a handful of books, maybe as many as twenty-five, but it was much more than Bella had expected. She had thought she'd only find a worn Bible and perhaps a few McGuffey's readers. She hoped she'd have time soon to peruse the little library and introduce her own three books to it. A big worktable with a chair at each end and benches tucked under was just outside of the kitchen area. It looked a good height for bread-making, with the wood smooth and worn. There was a jelly cabinet and some shelves crammed with crockery near the sink. It was well set-up for woman's work. Two cosy arm chairs were placed near the fireplace, and tucked into the corner, much to Bella's joy, was a small square piano. It was a family home and Bella felt she could be happy working there, more so now that she could see the house for herself rather than try to picture it in her mind. She had lived in a tent, in fancy elegant houses, in a single room shack and for a spell, in a caravan. This house was darling and perfect to her.

Edward was running around, muttering to himself. He hoped the girl wouldn't be too disgusted at the state of the house. He'd tried to keep up with the housework. He did the best he could, but his work was more important than women's chores. The animals, the fields and the farmwork all came before the house. He was bone-weary from trying to do both jobs. Everything needed cleaning, he and the boys included. Having the house, and the master of it, in such a state was not a good way to start this relationship. Even if she was just a servant, Edward didn't want to lose Isabella's respect before he had a chance to earn it. He'd noticed people work harder for those they respected. He wanted her to respect him, to listen and to mind him without him having to yell or strike her.

Bella found the place interesting. It was filthy, but not as filthy as she had imagined on the walk over. The house had seen a woman's touch and not too long ago. She was surprised at how well the mister had been able to keep the place. Sure, she'd need a few days to get it really clean, but she thought three males, left to their own devices would have made much more of a mess. Bella didn't, however, say anything to Mister Masen. She wasn't sure how he'd take it, especially coming from a servant. Plus, she didn't want to give him an ego boost. The mister seemed one who could be prone to arrogance given the opportunity, with the way he held himself and the gleam of pride in his eye.

She left her bags by the door. She hadn't been told yet where she was to sleep and didn't want to make the error of deciding for herself. The loft looked cozy and Bella thought that chances were great she'd end up there. It'd be very warm come the full heat of summer, but wonderfully toasty in winter. She'd offer to sleep on the kitchen floor if and when the weather became too hot.

Bella turned towards the front of the house and sized up the kitchen. There was some ham and some bacon hanging high from the rafters and she could well hear the cackle of the chickens outside. With the sun hastening them closer to twilight, there wasn't time enough for a proper meal. Bella found a small woven basket and trucked out to check the chickens. Luckily enough, Edward found gathering eggs to be one of the worst jobs on the farm and had neglected to perform the task for the last few days. Bella was able to quickly put together a meal of eggs, biscuits and bacon before the sun set.

 **AN:** **This story is loosely based on the film, _Rachel and The Stranger,_ RKO Radio Pictures c. 1948. **

**It was such a treat to come home from being away from my computer to find all your lovely comments about this story.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	5. Chapter 5

**I own no rights to the Twilight Universe.**

 **This story would be crap without Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77, like steaming, stick to your shoes crap.**

 **Chapter 5**

Edward was a bit shocked that she went ahead and made a meal. The last two hours had been spent unloading the cart and tending to the nightly chores. He worked methodically, trying not to rush because he wasn't sure how to talk to the woman in his house. Edward tried to think of what she might be doing, and fretted about the mess he had left behind in the kitchen that morning. However, at least he had bought some savoury hand-pies at Newton's for dinner. He'd forgotten to tell Isabella about them and sheepishly handed the pies to her before sitting down to a hot meal.

It had been a very long time since Edward had eaten a meal that was still hot. Since Rachel's death, by the time he'd finished cooking the damn thing and getting it set out, Jasper would need help cutting or eating. Emmett would then demand six different things from him that Edward hadn't thought to bring to the table. By the time the boys had been satisfied, Edward's dinner had become cold and unappetizing. Although, to be honest, most times it was unappetizing long before it turned cold. Edward was not a cook. He didn't like doing it and would have been happy to have bread, cheese and cured meat for the rest of his life. However, the cheese ran out quickly after Rachel died. Edward couldn't make yeast bread, only soda bread and it wasn't nearly as good as Rachel's. Edward often forgot to soak the meat, so most meals were very salty. He took to throwing several things in a pot with a lot of water and hoped to find a reasonable soup or stew at the end of the day. They had no choice but to eat it. The pigs did well over the winter with the leftovers of unpalatable dinners, but Edward lost a few pounds.

He was further surprised by Isabella's dinner for it had never occurred to him to serve breakfast foods for dinner. Edward could have saved himself a time or two if he'd just served eggs instead of those disgusting soups. Isabella's biscuits were very light, flaky and some of the best he'd had in years. Edward mentioned that to her but he didn't convey his sentiments properly.

' _Rachel never made biscuits like this_ ,' was how it came out, but he meant to say they were wonderful. He frowned when Isabella apologised and promised to do a better job next time. He thought to himself for a bit, wondering if there was a better way to phrase it, when Emmett piped up with his own opinion.

"Mama made eggs and bacon for breakfast, not for dinner."

Isabella was still standing at the stove with the frying pan full of more food to serve them. Edward was further troubled by both the boy's tone and her quick apologies.

"Mama is gone, Emmett. Isabella is here now and she might do things differently, but that doesn't mean they're wrong. Give her time." Emmett huffed and asked to be excused from the table. Edward allowed him to go and he ran out of the house.

Edward didn't notice the plate Bella had prepared for herself and how it went untouched until after he and Jasper had finished. Bella rushed to clear Emmett's plate; despite his complaints, his plate was cleaned of every crumb. She cut Jasper's bacon into small pieces and spread both butter and jam on his biscuits for him. Edward's glass was never empty and the second he had finished his third helping, a steaming cup of tea was placed in front of him. He was pleased as all get-out as he eased his chair back and rubbed his stomach. He caught his youngest son's eye and was graced with a very happy, smiling Jasper. His mouth was jammy and there were traces of scrambled egg in his hair, but Edward hadn't seen his boy this happy in months. Isabella snuck up behind the messy boy and Jasper let out a squeal of delight when she wiped his face, hands and hair with a warm washcloth. Jasper ran off to play, cheerfully. She rinsed the rag and handed it to Edward so he could wash a bit as well. Rachel never did that either. Edward started thinking that maybe this new woman wouldn't be such a bad thing after all. They just needed a little time to get used to each other.

Edward sat back and watched as the girl washed-up and tidied the kitchen while sneaking bites of her own dinner. He didn't know why Isabella didn't sit at the table to eat with them or even after they had finished, but didn't think to ask or offer it as a possibility. Perhaps it was the way she was raised. He decided he'd ask one day if it continued. Sighing, belly full and content, Edward got up and walked over to his chair on the other side of the room. He grabbed his pipe and tobacco pouch from a small basket on the fireplace mantle and sat heavily in his stuffed chair. He didn't smoke often, only after a particularly hard day or a really good meal.

"Is there anything else I can get for you, Mister?" Bella's voice interrupted a daydream and Edward's eyes flew open.

"No, Isabella, but Jasper needs to get to bed and Emmett needs to come in for the night. If you ready the little one, I'll get the big boy from outside."

Edward pushed himself up and yelled for Emmett when he reached the door.

Jasper was found on his side of the boys' room playing with some wooden animals. He offered no resistance when Bella mentioned bedtime. She helped him dress and wash before tucking him into bed. Jasper grabbed her with his arms tight around her neck and held on for a long time. Bella cupped the back of his head and gently stroked his hair until he let her go. She kissed his forehead and wished him a good night. She left the door ajar and nodded to Edward when she came out of the room. A few minutes later she could hear Edward reading to Jasper in soft tones.

Emmett stood by the ladder to the loft, his arms crossed over his chest and his chin jutting out.

"You're just a servant," he hurled at Bella.

"Yes, I know."

"You're not my mama."

"I know."

"You're never going to be my mama."

"I know. I'm here to look after you like a mother would but I'm not here to replace her. I was hoping we could be friends." Bella took a step closer to him as Edward came out of the boys' room.

"Time for bed, son. Lots of work tomorrow." Either Edward didn't notice, or he didn't care about the hostile stance of his son towards Bella. He walked to the fire, adding a couple of thick pieces of wood to burn until morning.

Emmett disappeared into the boys' bedroom with his arms still crossed. A soft ' _Goodnight, Papa_ ' was heard as he closed the door. Edward finished with the fire and walked into the other room, leaving Bella alone in the main room. She looked up at the loft and wondered how she was to get her things up there by herself, deciding it would take many trips. She took a few of the heavier things out of the carpet bag and reached for the ladder as Edward came out of the main bedroom with a huge bundle of blankets and a thick pillow.

"It's not the cleanest, but all we've got for now. I'll camp out by the fire for the time being." He motioned for Bella to take the bedroom he had just come from and began to make a pallet by the fire for himself.

She didn't argue. Bella grabbed her carpet bag and basket and closed the door behind her before the tears could fall from her eyes. The whole day had been overwhelming and she could only hold onto the emotion for so long. Bella wasn't prone to tears; in fact she was known to be stoic and strong, but the culmination of the last few years' events weighed heavily on her tonight. She hadn't had a home to call her own, not that she could claim ownership of this house, but she hadn't even had four walls and a bed to herself in a very long time. Dealing with the master of the house was well worth the feeling. The bed hadn't been made that morning and the sheets sorely needed a good wash. Looking about, she could see the floors were screaming for a scrub and there was a layer of dust on every surface. Nevertheless, Bella found the room to be cosy and homey, more so than any place she'd slept in for a long while. She fell onto the bed, fully clothed, and slept like the dead all night.

* * *

Odd noises woke Bella the next morning. Noises she wasn't accustomed to hearing. Animals lowing, baying, and grunting were much different to wake to than the sounds of wagons and town life. She sat bolt upright and used one hand to brush back the mop of hair that had escaped its bun during the night. It took only a moment to remember where she was. Bella freed the rest of her hair and smoothed it as best she could with her fingers. She shook the wrinkles from her skirts and opened the bedroom door. No one was in the main room and the front door was open. After a quick trip to the outhouse, she searched for the mister and the children. All three were to be found in the barn.

"Oh, there you are. You slept a long time, but I guess you needed it." Edward nodded to her.

"I'm sorry, I had no idea of the time. I'll get breakfast started right away." Bella turned to rush back to the house.

"Already had it. You should eat plenty, too. You're a bit too thin for hard farm work. Need some hearty eating to help you work stronger, thicken you up a bit."

"Oh, then I'll start the chores. I'll get to the milking." Bella was becoming concerned.

"Done it, pigs too." Edward spoke again.

Bella's concern was escalating to panicked embarrassment. "My apologies, Mister Masen. I've failed at my job, I won't let it happen again." Bella hung her head and waited for a reprimand.

"I guess it'll take some time to get used to the rhythm of the farm. You've got a lot to learn." He knocked a chunk of dirt off his boots with the rake he was holding, concentrating on that instead of her.

"Yes, sir."

Edward walked into the springhouse and brought out two buckets, handing both to Bella. One was full of milk, the other an empty slop bucket. He looked at her oddly when she thanked him.

"I can keep Jasper with me today and Emmett can skip his schooling while you get ready. Rachel always used to bring lunch out to us when the weather was nice. We'll be down by the creek fishing for dinner, so you won't have to worry about that too much." Edward turned heel and strode away.

"All right, then." Bella said to herself and picked up the buckets. She made it to the house without spilling a drop, a feat for which she congratulated herself.

Step one was to heat the last of the coffee Edward had left behind. After breakfast she would clean, tidy and air the house, while making bread and fixing a picnic lunch for the males.

Step two was to braid her hair. When that was done, she could really get to the work at hand.

The morning flew by. Bella easily found the line Mrs. Masen used to dry clothes and had all the blankets from the beds hanging out, airing. She found new sheets for the boys' beds and changed those; tomorrow or the next day she'd set to washing every bit of fabric she could find. Bread was rising and some dried apples were soaking to make a crumble for dessert. She couldn't imagine there were many sweets made over the last few months since Mrs. Masen's death. She couldn't picture the mister making cakes or pies for his boys. The cellar was well stocked for this time of year; there were plenty of preserves, jams and such. Quart jars of baked beans, stewed tomatoes and various pickled vegetables lined the shelves. There were more of some vegetables than others, as if the mister had cherry-picked the ones he liked and left the rest for a last resort. Bella wondered if he knew to rinse and soak some of the vegetables to rid them of their brine before adding them to his soups or stews. Probably not. She could picture some of the truly odd-tasting meals he would have had to eat over the last few months. No wonder he looked pinched and thin, and here he was bothering her about her slenderness. At least her size was natural; she'd always been slim and able to eat as she pleased without fear of becoming fat. A few weeks of good cooking would help and perhaps improve the temper of the older son, too. Bella may not have grown up cooking, but having to learn out of necessity was a very strict teacher and she took pride in being able to cook well. After all, she had fed her father using only a campfire for months.

Bella found some potatoes and grabbed a jar of carrots to accompany the fish the men were planning to catch. She put the finishing touches on the basket filled with the hand-pies the mister had bought as well as a few other choice morsels. She'd packed a selection to take to the creek, not knowing what he preferred. Slipping on her boots, Bella latched the front door and started her walk to serve up lunch. She stepped back to look at the house. It was plain. Maybe she could add a flower bed or box to the front to liven the place up a bit. She could plant some flowering herbs to serve a dual purpose, or triple if they were insect-repellant at the same time. She'd have to see about that once her new family had warmed to her a bit.

 **AN: This story is loosely based on the film, _Rachel and The Stranger,_ RKO Radio Pictures c. 1948.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Many thanks to Vagabonda, beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77 for their help in creating and polishing this story.**

 **Chapter 6**

The path to the river's edge was easy to follow. Halfway there, Bella came across a marker for the grave of Mrs. Masen. There were freshly picked flowers laid at the base of the sign that just read _Rachel_. She took a moment to pay her respects before continuing on.

She heard Emmett's voice and followed the sounds of him playing until she came across the little family. Jasper was perched on a rock, well away from the water, tossing small stones into the river and watching them as they fell. Emmett was closer to the water, pole in hand, flinging it back and forth, trying to emulate his father's movements. Edward had his line out in the middle of the river, waiting for a fish to bite. To the side of the rock where Jasper played was a basket with two fish tails protruding. There would be at least some fish for dinner.

Jasper noticed Bella first and called to her. The sound of his voice surprised his brother and father, so much so that Emmett fell into the water with a great splash.

Edward slowly pulled his line in, finding a small trout at the end of it. He threw it in his fishing basket before rinsing his hands and helping his wet boy to his feet.

Other than thanking Bella for bringing the meal, nothing much was said. Emmett was sore that Bella made him fall into the water and that he had to eat with wet clothes. Bella had served up the simple meal of warmed meat pies to the men, laid out the other items and then sat back to see if she'd be invited to join them. They didn't think to invite her.

With half of his lunch in his belly, Edward finally had energy to speak. He thought if she wasn't going to eat with them, she might as well be useful doing something else.

"Do you know how to clean trout? There are some there to be gutted."

Bella nodded and grabbed the basket. She found a spot well downstream and cleaned the fish. They were perfectly meal-sized; one large and three smaller, which would serve them well. If the mister caught more, she could always see to smoking them if he liked.

Jasper sleepily clung to her skirts once she'd finished that task and trailed after her as she set to tidying up and packing the remains of lunch in the basket. Emmett was back at the water's edge, wading and throwing stones, but Edward had hung back to speak with her.

"Could you take Jasper back with you? I fear I overworked him this morning and he may need a rest." Edward looked lovingly at his sleepy boy. "He harvested twigs all morning."

"Of course, Mr. Masen."

Edward stared blankly at her for a moment. Why didn't she call him Edward? That was his given name. Possibly she was raised that way. He knew other folk who were old-fashioned like that, always using formal talk. There were so few people he was friendly with, he hadn't the time or energy to stick to all those fancy formal rules. Edward called a man by the name given on introduction and expected the same in return. He absolutely hated it when someone contracted his own name and assumed others did as well. Woe betide the man who called him Ed or worse, _Eddie_.

He watched as, with a happy sigh, Jasper snuggled into Bella's shoulder and she leaned her head down on top of the boy's damp curls. Edward felt an odd stirring in his chest that could be mistaken for gas and hoped he wouldn't belch in her company; it was too soon to lose all his manners in front of her. Although, he didn't feel gassy, it was altogether a different feeling that danced in his stomach.

The chores Bella planned to accomplish that day were truncated due to Jasper's presence. Not that he interfered or got in her way, but because she included him as much as she could. He was her helper in all things. The darling boy laughed and laughed when she presented him with a wooden spoon and had him help her air the blankets and braided rugs. He had a great deal of fun beating them and waving away the dust that clouded out around him. He helped shape some of the risen bread dough into rolls to accompany their fish dinner. Jasper kindly distracted the chickens by feeding them as Bella gathered eggs. He was a lovely addition to her work day, but she wondered why he barely spoke. She prattled away at him, narrating her tasks to try to get him to talk to her. Jasper listened raptly, nodding or shaking his head at the appropriate times, but just didn't respond vocally. It was the one concerning dampener to an otherwise lovely afternoon.

Edward and Emmett returned to finish their afternoon chores just in time to find Bella perched on a tiny stool, milking the cow. Edward was surprised she took the initiative, but happy he didn't have to perform the chore. He was exhausted from doing all the chores himself with only young boys to help. He left the fish in the springhouse to keep cool and noted there was enough cream set aside for butter. Edward would have to tell Isabella there was churning to be done tomorrow. He hoped she'd be up to routine soon.

* * *

Edward was greeted by the aroma of baking bread when he came in for the night. It was one of his favourite scents. Underneath the baking bread he could smell apples and cinnamon, and his mouth began to water. He hoped for pie, but would take any kind of dessert if Isabella had made one. He'd missed desserts since Rachel died, for he hadn't the patience or the talent to make them.

The house was much cleaner and brighter than it had been that morning. Isabella had been hard at work. Edward was glad; this was what he brought her here for, to keep the house clean, him and the boys fed and kept properly. He reminded himself to thank her later, once the boys were in bed.

Edward rested for a moment as he watched Bella supervise the boys as they washed up for dinner. As soon as they were in place at the table, she presented them with their plates piled high with pan-fried trout. Edward could not believe the aroma that came from his meal. Rachel never made fish smell this good. He tried to convey his pleasure to Bella but again, it came out all wrong. When he said _'Rachel never made fish like this'_ , his intention was to gain a happy smile from her. When he didn't, Edward worried she had taken it as a criticism, for the small smile she'd had dropped from her face. Again, Bella went to stand by the sink to eat her own meal, rather than take a spot at the table with the family. Edward wondered, for a moment, why she wasn't joining them to eat but he was quickly distracted by his dinner; it was the best meal he'd had since before Rachel took sick.

* * *

Over the next few days, Bella heard a great deal about what Rachel did or did not do. Rachel _did not_ make oatmeal for weekday breakfast. Rachel did the washing on _Thursday_ and _all of it_ in one day. Rachel _never_ made bread more than one day a week. Rachel didn't _ever_ fix chicken like Bella did. It got to the point where Bella spent a bit of time at Rachel's grave asking for guidance, because if she had to hear again just how she was doing everything wrong and not the way that Rachel did it, she feared she would stab the mister in the throat with a toasting fork and run away. Prudently, Bella kept her temper and her tongue as she was picked apart, bit by bit.

Emmett was quick to join in correcting her as he heard his father do, although his parotting was done with malice. Edward was just ill-intentioned and ignorant to the feelings of women, particularly the feelings of Isabella. Edward thought she would like the information he imparted about the running of the farm before her arrival. She was a far superior cook to Rachel, more creative and efficient with all her chores, and he tried to tell her how different she was from his late wife.

However, Edward never heard Bella cry herself to sleep. He didn't see the shrinking, pinched look on her face every time he extolled the domestic virtues of his late wife. Bella tried to tackle the chores and what was expected of her in a sensible and methodical way. She felt splitting the chores into smaller pieces made more sense than spending an entire day with a single chore. She could proof bread and have a wash soaking all at the same time, while giving her the opportunity to do a bit of weeding as well. Bella tried to balance everything out as a way to improve their daily living. She was proud of the work she was doing and wished the mister could appreciate her efforts as well.

Bella respected the work he did, long days tilling and readying the soil, planting, tending the animals and chopping wood. Her admiration grew, being able to watch him do some of these chores. Bella marvelled at his strength as he split wood and hefted sacks of grain as if they weighed nothing. While it made her curiously warm to watch him work, Bella found she warmed more so to see the mister stoop to pick up one of his sons at the end of the day. From what she had observed of the little family so far, Edward wasn't severe with them. He was a caring parent, but he wasn't overly demonstrative either. He didn't smother them in kisses or anything like that. However, he always held them briefly whenever they had been parted for more than a few hours. Emmett would grab him about the legs and Jasper would be held up to chest level. One could clearly see that he loved them.

Bella found when it came to her, the mister would incline his head in a nod as a greeting at the end of the day and murmur her name, but he didn't really smile or grin at her. Although, sometimes one corner of his mouth would quirk up a mite. He'd be _so very_ handsome if he'd only smile and loosen up a bit. Bella had to remind herself she was really just his servant and she had no cause to expect affection from him.

Bella might have been his bride legally, but not in practise. It was not what she had wanted for herself when she'd dreamed of her future as a romantic young girl. She understood his reasoning behind the marriage, but didn't think he'd thought it through. Annulments were not that easy to get. She had seen the aftermath of many a hasty marriage in the past. And what judge would give them one after four years of marriage? They'd both acted so impulsively, so rashly, it made her wonder who might be destroyed as a consequence. Bella rested some of her hopes and romantic notions on time and familiarity. She'd make him a good wife and help smooth out his rough edges if he'd only _see_ her. If only he'd consider the wife he had _now_ , as much as he spoke of the one who'd died.

The one constant joy in Bella's life was Jasper. Jasper had a winning smile just for her. He followed her around and listened to her, smiling and nodding as if he understood every word. Jasper helped with her chores as much as any three-year-old could be expected to help. And he never failed to let his preference for Bella be known to all. When his father would try to cut his meat or wash his face, Jasper squirmed away and said _Is-Bella_ to let Edward know to leave him until she could do it for him. It fell to Bella to ready Jasper for bed, a task Edward used to enjoy. Edward watched with pride as his quiet boy warmed up to Isabella.

Emmett listened with jealousy as Bella read his old favourites to Jasper, night after night. Emmett didn't like seeing his father and brother cosy up to the servant girl. He missed his mother and wanted her back. He didn't appreciate the disruption to his family. Emmett particularly did not like his father sleeping by the fire every night. His Papa was the man of the house and should be respected as such. It bothered him that he was thought still too small and uncoordinated to sleep in the loft by himself.

Papa's rule was a boy had to be eight to sleep up there, knowing that Emmett fell out of bed on a regular basis and couldn't be trusted to navigate the ladder just yet. He didn't see why the serving girl couldn't sleep in the loft and leave the main bedroom for Papa. There were lots of places the girl could sleep at night but she chose to sleep in Mama's bed and that weren't right. What if there was one of those big thunderstorms? Would he have to climb into bed with her like he did with his Mama and Papa when he was scared? Where was he to go for early morning snuggles? On cold winter mornings, Emmett liked to climb into bed between his parents. With Papa on the floor and her in the big bed there was nowhere for him to go. It seemed only fitting she move and the next day, while he was helping clear away some rocks that might get in the way of the plow, Emmett let his father know his thoughts.

Edward listened to the boy and, darn it all, if the boy didn't make sense. Edward was too tall for the loft, but the girl was just a tiny slip of a thing; she could rest there, no issue, and he could take his bed back. He needed a much better night's rest than he'd had as of late. His exhaustion was making the work harder and the days longer.

After much thought later that night, wherein he briefly entertained the idea of retaking the bed with Isabella in it as his wife, Edward decided Emmett's plan was sound. The longer she was there, the more favourably he looked at her. Isabella was a very pretty girl, much more pleasing to look at than Rachel, but he didn't want to admit that to her, just yet. She didn't seem too favourable about him. Her formal ways of addressing him and the way she held him at arm's length did little to take away from the fact that she was a very pretty girl living in his house. A _very pretty_ girl sleeping not twenty feet away from him every night. If she had shown any interest, he could entertain the idea of making her his wife proper. However, Isabella rarely spoke about anything except the running of the farm and the welfare of the boys. She worked hard, still ate standing up and called him Sir. Edward knew of no other way to get her to ease up a bit.

He did, at the earliest convenience, retake his bedroom and install her in the loft. Emmett would be eight in a year and a half, old enough and coordinated enough to have the loft for himself. Isabella could then decide to bunk in with Jasper or take her place in his bed. They were married, after all, he reasoned. Edward thought she might just warm to him in a year and a half. Hell, he'd bedded Rachel a short month after marrying her. Edward figured he could wait until Isabella was willing or wanting.

Bella felt downhearted at the change of beds. To her, it meant there was little chance of becoming a real wife to Mr. Masen. He did not see Bella in that light, and she would be his servant until her debt was paid. She was saddened because she could see potential in him. Bella adored Jasper and already loved the farm, the house and her life there. Emmett would warm to her soon; she could see the boy was torn and trying to stay loyal to his mother. She knew both he and his father needed more time to grieve.

 **AN: If you've read this far, you know which film and book this story is based on. If you've read this far I thank you.**

 **Just so you know, this is a slow burn but we'll get there. However, next chapter we get to meet Carlisle.**

 **Now that you're finished this chapter, please go read all the entries for the Age of Edward 2017 contest and then vote for your favourite. One year I might just get up the courage to enter this contest.**

 **I am honoured by everyone who has mentioned and recommended this story on other sites. You're support means the world to me.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	7. Chapter 7

**This story and writer would be horribly jumbled and lousy without the help and kindness of Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77.**

 **Chapter 7**

As late spring warmed into summer, the loft became stuffy and hot. Bella took to sleeping without bedclothes, wearing as little as she could while still keeping her modesty. She had hung a worn bedsheet as a curtain from the rafters for privacy, but now she sweltered behind it. The mister saw that she needed some respite from the heat, and spent an entire day adding a small vent to either end of the house, under the eaves at the peak. The ensuing cross-breeze was lovely when there was wind, and it provided her with some relief. It was one of the nicer things he had done for her in the handful of weeks they'd been married.

When Bella laid her hand on his arm to thank him, the mister appeared to be taken aback by her gesture. The warmth of her hand must have affected him, for he visibly shuddered at her touch. He could only stammer a brief _welcome_ before turning tail and stalking off. There and then, Bella resolved not to touch him at all, if possible, for it seemed to displease him. She watched him walk away from her and shook her head in abject bewilderment. She could not understand this man, and the lack of understanding frustrated her.

* * *

Life continued within this stiff, uncomfortable dance in which they found themselves. Edward, with Emmett's help, was able to clear, plow and plant an additional three acres of his land while maintaining the other twenty-five. Isabella not only took over fulfilling Rachel's chores, but was able to take on a few of Edward's lesser chores as well. His goal of having thirty acres cleared this year was well within his grasp. If Carlisle were to show up soon, he might be able to reach thirty-five. A few days of Isabella's good cooking might be enough of a lure to convince him to stay around for longer than usual, too.

Although Carlisle liked living rough, he had a smooth way about him that seemed to draw people to his side. He could charm the paint off the walls if he'd set his mind to it, but Carlisle seldom set his mind that way. It just came naturally to him without conscious effort. He'd spent most of his life living in the woods, but enjoyed stopping to visit with other, more settled people from time to time. Carlisle was the kind of person who had a loyal friend in nearly every town in the region.

Mr. Masen had been one of the few people immune to Carlisle's charm, and unkindly shooed him away from their farm each spring. A few years older than Edward, Carlisle would have worked hard for Masen. But the man didn't want to pay for help; he had his own son to do the work for free. Seeing Edward treated as a serf under his father's lordly thumb, acting like a dog that'd been kicked too many times, Carlisle felt bad for him. He sought Edward out whenever he was in the area, and didn't venture too far afield in case he was needed. Carlisle's keen instinct told him a boy treated like that needed an ally.

Over the matter of a few years, the two built up a strong friendship. When Masen, Sr. riled Edward by falsely accusing him of interfering with the management of the family's land and undermining his authority, Carlisle calmed him. When his folks' farm failed due to drought and Edward's father disowned him at fifteen, Carlisle helped him find a place of his own like he wanted. Edward had seen the signs and could tell his father's farm was in trouble, but the old man wouldn't listen. The elder Masen had always been stuck in his ways and stubborn; no man, including his son, could tell him what to do. Carlisle taught Edward more about loyalty and family than his own parents ever did.

The two men trapped together for a couple of seasons so Edward could earn enough to purchase his first plot of land at a sheriff's sale. Carlisle even stuck around long enough to ready the first fields for planting, and helped lay the foundation for the cabin.

Holding little resentment toward his father for booting him off the family farm before the bank took it, Edward even went back to bury both his parents when they died a few months later. He could imagine what his life would have been like, what kind of man he might have become if his father hadn't given him the boot and freed him. Determined to be a far better man than his father and to wed a woman kinder than his mother, Edward found being orphaned no hardship. He wasted little time and energy thinking of his parents after they had passed.

Carlisle tried to discourage Edward from finding a wife through the mail. At the time, there had been a young lady from a local band of Arapaho that Carlisle had his eye on, but her father wasn't happy for a white man to take interest in his daughter. He felt the Chief might have been persuaded if another girl from the band had her own white man. Many of the Arapaho young men had been imprisoned or killed, and there were girls in need of a husband, even a white one. However, there was no girl suitable for Edward's purpose. He wanted to be married as soon as possible, and he had no patience for courting rituals and elder approvals. Consequently, Carlisle's eye towards marriage dimmed, and the young lady found her true love living in the next valley. Twice a year, she and her family would stop in to visit Edward and Rachel, as well as to hear news of Carlisle. Every spring she brought a gift of warm moccasins for the family that she had made over the winter, and every fall she gifted them with a collection of seeds for the next year's planting. Strangely, Carlisle always missed those visits; it was almost as if he was watching the Masen place to avoid her. She had visited just before Edward went to town to get a serving girl, so Carlisle could be expected to arrive any day now. At Edward's request, she chose some of Rachel's clothing to be distributed within the band or used for trading.

Edward was not disappointed. Just as he started work expanding his fields over a small ridge away from the house, he came across Carlisle's camp. Not the man himself, but telltale remnants that showed he had been about recently. Edward sent Emmett back to the house to instruct Isabella to expect one more for dinner. He knew Carlisle would make himself found by dinner time.

Sure enough, just as they were finishing up for the day and about to go in for chores, the man himself came striding out of the woods leading his horse with a large turkey draped across the saddle. Carlisle jumped into talking as if they had only just parted and had not been out of touch for months. He threw a wink at Emmett.

"Ho there, Edward. I'm glad to have caught you. There's a strange woman at your house. I wasn't sure if you'd moved away over winter or if you have guests. I didn't want to approach the house when I spotted her from the ridge in case the lady was timid." Carlisle was wearing his buckskin suit, hand-beaded for him by a band in the north he traded with from time to time. He looked as if he hadn't bathed for a long spell, and his beard was long and filthy. He stank as well. Edward wasn't sure what Isabella might have done if he, as a stranger, had approached the homestead. She couldn't shoot, as far as Edward knew, so that was in everyone's favour. He guessed she might ring the warning bell.

He remembered the first time she rang it, thinking it was just for communication. Edward was so winded from running to her aid he couldn't get a word out to explain to her the real purpose of the bell. Emmett explained it to her in a very condescending tone as if he were talking to someone addled. _'Ya only ring the bell in case of fire or attack.'_ Isabella, red with embarrassment, apologized and made herself scarce for the rest of the week.

Edward had intended to speak to Emmett about his tone with her and the respect she was due, but work got in the way and he soon forgot. He resolved anew to have that talk with Emmett as soon as Carlisle left. Edward was drawn out of his thoughts by his friend speaking.

"Where's Rachel? She thaw out any?" Carlisle asked, joking. He knew Rachel disliked him with a passion; she'd shouted as much to him on a previous visit. When he was around were some of the few times she'd showed emotion. She'd cook for him, clean his clothes and do his mending, but only because Edward asked it of her. Rachel stood her ground at having Carlisle sleep in the house; she refused to sleep under the same roof as _'that scoundrel'_ , as she called him.

Carlisle loved to torment her. Rachel didn't approve of the way he lived his life and she told him so repeatedly. She knew that before she answered his ad, Edward was close to selling the farm and living the same way, roughing it night after night; no home, no family, just hunting and trapping. She was afraid Carlisle would try to convince Edward to live that way now, with her and their young sons in tow. Rachel was determined that Carlisle would not lead her children into that kind of rootless existence. However, she didn't want to be seen as uncharitable, so she'd grudgingly look after him while he was visiting and try to convince him to change his ways. Rachel knew well enough of his liquor consumption and his whores at the brothel, and she did not want Edward to engage in the same behaviour. There was nothing she approved of when it came to _that man_ and Carlisle exploited that to his amusement. It was a point of contention for Rachel that Edward didn't like to interfere in their discourse for fear of angering either of them, so he stayed neutral.

"Rachel passed away a few months back. She caught a fever and was gone inside a week."

"I'm truly sorry for your loss. Your boys, too. She may not have liked me, but she was a good, charitable woman who served you well." Carlisle was sincere in his regret.

The men let a few minutes rest between them, a moment of silent contemplation and reflection. When it started to become uncomfortable, Carlisle broke the quiet.

"You know, this was a real hard winter for me. Made me think of maybe finding a woman of my own and making a home. I'm getting too old for this life. I was thinking of going into town and seeing if there was a spinster with low expectations who might have me. Or maybe a sweet young thing looking for a dashing older man to pamper. Why don't you come with me and we'll see if we couldn't find someone for you, too. Perhaps get you a girl with a sense of humour this time." Carlisle's mourning period for Rachel was well over.

Edward hemmed and hawed for a bit before turning to start towards home.

"Say, who is that woman at your place, anyway?"

"Oh, I already went to town. I went looking for a widow or such to keep the house and homestead. I found someone there. I had to buy her debt from Stanley. A fair, steep price but she's a hard worker."

"Yeah? Funny, the idea of you having a servant. Getting mighty high on the hog there, Eddie."

"Don't call me Eddie."

"Papa doesn't like nicknames. He calls everyone by their full name even if they ask him. He calls Isabella, _Isabella_ even though she likes _Bella_ better. Jasper calls her _Is-Bella_ , but he's just little." Emmett piped up for the first time. He idolized both his father and Carlisle. He hated it when they fought, even in jest, because he didn't want to have to pick sides.

"Is-a-bell-a, huh? Pretty name. Tell me, Emmett, is she pretty? Nice?"

"She's okay, I guess. But she's not my mama. She'll never be, no matter how hard she tries." He shouted the last bit and ran off to the house. Edward sighed.

"I see he hasn't taken to her. So, you tell me. She too old for me? Think I can woo her away from you?"

"No." Edward all but shouted.

"What do you mean, _no_? _No_ , she'd not too old or _No_ , I couldn't woo her away from you? I'll have you know I've got plenty of charm when it comes to the ladies. I'll bet I could have her swooning and running off with me inside a month, if I put my mind to it."

"Isabella is not for you. You leave her be."

"Oh dear me, Eddie. Have you got eyes for your housekeeper?" Carlisle laughed. He could see his friend fuming and it only fueled him further. He loved to tease Edward; he was such a stick in the mud and was in desperate need of some loosening.

They were in sight of the house now and could see Bella making her way from the barn with a full bucket of milk in each hand. Some of her hair had escaped her braid, tendrils trailing down her neck and face. The angle of the sunlight cast a reddish glow on her tresses. The weight of the buckets made her shoulders square, forcing her back straight and her bosom forward. Where Rachel had been short and kind of round, Isabella was taller and slender. Both men were struck silent watching her stride in profile through the farmyard.

"Good Lord, man. I was just joshing you. Who the hell was that? Is that Isabella? Damn." Carlisle's words were barely above a whisper. He had expected a older woman, much older, from the way Edward talked about her.

This was a fine, young lady.

Pretty and young.

Pretty, hardworking, capable and young.

This was just the kind of woman he could see himself settling down with and starting a family.

Edward cleared his throat and looked pointedly at his friend.

"Don't go getting up to your old tricks now. She's not Rachel and I expect you to treat her kindly."

"I promise to treat her kindly, Edward. Very kindly." There was no mistaking Carlisle's lecherous tone, or the mischievous grin on his face.

"None of your teasing. I don't know how she'd take it."

"I'll be the perfect gentleman, I swear." Carlisle raised his right hand to swear then took off his hat to run his fingers through his hair. If he'd known there was a pretty girl here he would've bathed in the river after hunting birds. He might even have changed out of his hunting clothes.

"Well, come on then, I'll introduce you and you can give her the turkey. Then we'll bed your horse down for the night. If you go in the spring house there's still that jug you left last time. Should be good for a few pulls." Edward led him over to the house.

Isabella, having heard the men approaching, walked to the doorway to greet them. She was wearing her made-over calico with one of Rachel's old aprons. She had a corner of the apron tucked up into the waistband of her skirts and it accentuated her slim build. There was a fine sheen of perspiration on her brow that made strands of hair cling to her face. There was a brush of flour on one cheek as if she had swiped at her face with her hands as she was working dough. Although she was hot and tired from another long day, she was surprisingly lovely. Edward had thought her plain, but he hadn't really looked before today. He hadn't seen the pleasing shape of her face or the engaging colour of her eyes. Nor had he seen the rich dark colour of her hair and the way it tried to curl whenever it was free. He didn't see that she was just the perfect height to tuck into your arms and hold. He hadn't seen all of that before, but he was now, and seeing it through Carlisle's eyes as well. Isabella was pretty. Much too pretty for the likes of Carlisle, and Edward wanted to stake his claim. He wanted to prove ownership once and for all, before his friend could charm her away from him. Not that he intended to romance her for himself at this moment. One day perhaps, not soon, but one day. He couldn't have his pal taking her from him before he'd made up his mind to have her for his own.

"Isabella, this is my old friend, Carlisle Cullen. Carlisle, this is my wife, Isabella."

 **AN: Based loosely on the RKO Radio Pictures production of the film _Rachel and The Stranger_ , c.1948. **

**Next, we get to find out a bit about Bella's life and debt. Just so you know, this story posts weekly on Fridays. This chapter is early for personal reasons. I'd rather post early than late so I didn't think you'd mind.**

 **Thank you for reading. See you next Friday.**


	8. Chapter 8

**I owe a debt of gratitude to Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77 for their knowledge and expertise but mostly for their willingness to slog through some very rough material.**

 **Chapter 8**

Edward's words stunned them all. Up until the threat of Carlisle taking her from him, he hadn't really thought of what it meant to claim Isabella as his wife. Sure, he'd married her and all, but mostly because of the debt transaction and to protect his family, not in making her a true wife in a forever kind of a way. It was odd to say it out loud to someone who matters, not like that fool Newton at the store. To say 'this is my wife' to Carlisle made it more real, somehow.

Bella was surprised the mister would lay claim to her like that. He placed his hand on her shoulder as he introduced her. It was one of the few times he had touched her willingly. She looked at him and then at the his hand, which felt as though it was branding her skin with sheer heat. When she turned her face to look at the stranger to whom she was being introduced, she was caught off-guard by the sight of him. He was strikingly handsome, blond, tall and well-muscled. After a much needed bath and a close shave, Bella realised he would be quite pleasing to look upon. There was a twinkle in his dark blue eyes that the mister did not possess in his piercing green.

" _Your wife_?" Carlisle was taken aback. From the way Edward and Emmett spoke, he'd been under the impression the lady working at their house was a maid, not the lady of the house. It was beyond him why Edward hadn't mentioned marrying her, and had given him the impression she was just a maid. She was a perfectly lovely looking girl; much prettier than Rachel, and if she were his, well then, he'd shout it from the rooftops for all to hear.

Edward hemmed and hawed for a moment before giving an explanation that was equal parts hurtful and telling.

"It wasn't fitting to have a young lady here and not marry her. It's not proper. Folks would talk." Edward let his hand slip from her shoulder. Saying it that way again left an unsettling burning in his stomach, as if he'd swallowed something foul.

"So you trapped her into a loveless marriage instead? Doesn't seem right."

Isabella excused herself and went back to her cooking. She didn't want to hear any more of this conversation.

Carlisle continued to question Edward as they lugged the turkey into the springhouse, bedded the horses, and saw to the rest of the stock. He had seen some of the happiness drain from Isabella's eyes when Edward explained their relationship.

"You're a stubborn fool, Edward Masen. You didn't think this through at all, did you? You didn't think Rachel through either, you just decided to advertise for a bride and didn't think of what came after. You and Rachel were completely wrong together. She turned you into a dour sour puss just because she was one herself. She leeched any sense of joy you had left as a boy out of you. Are you going to do the same to that poor girl in your house or are you going to be a husband to her?" Carlisle berated him in a hushed voice just in case one of the boys came into the barn.

"If she wants, she can annul the marriage after her debt is paid. She knows that, and the rest is none of your concern. Now, let's finish up for dinner." Edward refused to engage in a full argument with his friend. They could talk it out in the fields tomorrow. They did some of their best talking while working. Carlisle may have only been a few years older in age, but Edward knew his friend was far more knowledgeable about worldly things than most.

* * *

Much to Edward's chagrin, Carlisle, in the span of a few short minutes, managed to solve the mystery of why Isabella ate standing up by the sink for each meal. When Carlisle invited her to join them and Isabella readily agreed, Edward realised he'd never asked her to sit and eat with them. It simply hadn't occurred to him. He found it forward of his friend to invite his own wife to join them at the dinner table, but if Carlisle hadn't asked, would they have gone their entire lives eating apart because he, Edward, had not thought to extend Isabella an invitation? He quickly parroted the suggestion as if he'd just thought of it himself.

As the lady of the house, Edward thought Isabella should have assumed her place at the table as part of her due. He now wondered if he would have to extend other special permissions for Isabella. Thinking drew him away from the conversation, but it was of little concern, for Carlisle was always a lively addition to the dinner table. His friend was regaling them with stories of his many adventures over the past few months. Carlisle even managed to make Isabella laugh, and the sound of it startled Edward. It had been ages since he'd heard a woman laugh, and Isabella's laugh was lovely.

The boys were shooed away after dinner. Carlisle chatted with Isabella as she washed the dishes, leaving Edward to listen to her story for the first time and to wonder why he hadn't heard it before.

"My mother came from old money, very old money. My father was hired as her music tutor. They fell in love and she ran away with him to get married. They were mad for each other and my grandparents were _livid_. Nothing and no one could change her mind and she had money of her own from a trust, so my parents lived as they pleased. Father worked from time to time performing, but mostly he'd try to compose. Father wanted to write whimsical operettas like Offenbach and Strauss, the Younger. None of his works ever made the stage, even with my mother as his backer. After I came along, they settled for a few years but it didn't last. We lived on the Continent for a long time while Father tried to sell his compositions, but mostly they played and lived a life of gay frivolity without a care for their finances or the future.

When I was fourteen and we were living in Newport, Mother fell ill and died. Father didn't know that the money died with her; some clause in the trust or will, I'm not certain. My grandparents had died years before, having never forgiven my mother, and they bequeathed their entire estate to charity. Their bitterness towards my father had succeeded in poisoning the attitudes of others; there was no one left for my father to appeal to for help or funds. He tried to keep up on his own, but it was fruitless. Father just wasn't able to earn enough to keep us going in the manner to which we were accustomed. He had heard of an opportunity out west in gold mining, so he sold everything we had and bought a stake. We lived in a mining camp for a long time before Father found himself rather deep in debt again. He sold his claim and equipment, but it wasn't enough. Father took a job as a piano player in a saloon, and shortly thereafter was killed in a brawl. His debts fell to me. Father's creditors tried to get me to work his obligations off in the same saloon, but I was able to find work cooking in a nearby logging camp. The cookhouse was run by a very stern matron. She kept me very well supervised and protected.

When the logging company failed, I was lucky to find Mr. Stanley. He had a good reputation, and he bought the remainder of my debt because the matron had given me a character reference. I was close to desperate at first. I would have had to work for Mr. Stanley for seven years, although I did have a bit of a plan that could have taken some of that time away. A travelling man once told me he'd pay as much as eight dollars for my hair. It would have to be my last resort, selling my hair, but if it gets me out of debt faster, I suppose I'd have to part with it. It would grow back eventually, for sure, but would be a very hard decision to make." Bella finished the dishes and dried her hands.

Carlisle took one look at Edward's stunned expression and understood this was all news to him.

Edward chose to gloss over all the other information about Isabella's past, for now. It was too much information for him to consider, so he fixated on only one part of Isabella—her hair.

Edward thought Isabella's hair was beautiful. The braid she always wore intrigued him. At the nape of her neck it was as thick as his wrist; a twist of glossy brown, with hints of gold and deep rich red. It tapered down her back and ended with a small bow of white ribbon just above where her apron tied around her waist. That first morning, Isabella's hair had been loose and wild around her head, and it was a sight to see. The ends curled and danced as she walked. The image of Isabella walking away from him that morning played in Edward's thoughts from time to time, when he allowed his mind to wander.

Edward couldn't help but compare his late wife's hair with Isabella's. Rachel kept her hair shorter than Isabella's intriguing, thick braid. Rachel's hair rested just past her shoulders, black as boot polish, and she always wore it in a tight bun at the top of her head. Edward found several bottles of hair dye tucked away in the pantry after her death. A few of them were quite dusty, as if she'd been hoarding them for a long time. She must have bought them in town when he wasn't paying attention, or Mrs. Newton might have slipped them in with the supplies. He'd had no idea she dyed her hair and wondered why she went to the bother of hiding it, and more so, paid good money for it. He'd have to ask Isabella one day if she knew of any reason.

"You do have quite a bit of hair, nice looking, too. I'd bet you could get more for it if you were looking to sell. Get you away from Steady Eddie over there." Carlisle laughed at his own joke and wandered over to the square piano tucked into the corner. He opened the lid and ran his fingers over the keys.

"What will you do with the instrument now, Ed? With no one here to play, will you sell it? Or chop it up for kindling?" he asked in a teasing manner.

Bella was horrified at the idea of destroying a musical instrument, even one as humble as this. She let out a hiss of displeasure.

"You play, Mrs. Masen?" He asked, knowing the answer.

Edward sat back, confused. He'd had no idea she could play. When he said as much, Bella's tongue was quicker than her brain and she replied without thinking.

"You never asked." Her eyes grew wide after she said it. She'd never spoken back to the mister, not out loud like that and sharp; only ever in her head.

"Well then," Carlisle said with glee. He walked over to where he'd stashed his pack and withdrew a small worn-looking concertina. He grabbed a chair from the table and placed it in front of the piano. Next, he grabbed a second one and turned it with its back to the side of the instrument. Then he went to the door and shouted for the boys.

"Jasper, Emmett, get back here. We're having a singalong." The boys came running and he motioned for Bella to take her place. Carlisle stood with one foot up on the chair beside the piano and loomed over Bella.

They played and sang until well past Jasper's bedtime. Carlisle sang as they played easy songs for the boys to follow, such as "Yankee Doodle" and "Clementine". Edward bounced Jasper on his knee as they enjoyed themselves with the music. It was the most fun and lively night the small family'd had in a long time. While Rachel could play, she didn't play well and tended to stick to church music. She sang badly, but didn't know it; no one wanted to inform her. Bella was reluctant to sing, but she sang very well. Her low alto was an excellent complement to Carlisle's tenor. Emmett joined in a few songs with a surprisingly clear soprano voice.

Edward was both pleased and dismayed at the easy nature between his friend and his wife. He could almost see that if he hadn't been her husband, it could look to some as if Carlisle were starting to court her. They were laughing, and played together so well. The happiness on Isabella's face lit her from within and took years of hardship and worry from her brow. She sure was a pretty young woman.

Edward remembered when he first saw her at Stanley's. Her plain looks were one of the deciding factors in choosing her to work for him. Well, her plain looks and the other two frightening choices. Maybe it was the good mountain air agreeing with her. She'd hadn't plumped up too much; she was still slender-looking, but there was a bit more to her now. Edward resolved to possibly rethink his stance on his wife in the near future, maybe when Carlisle was gone and there was a break in the planting and farming. He needed time to wrap his head around such thoughts. He didn't think Rachel would begrudge him enjoying his new wife, too much. After all, she'd been dead for near six months. It could be time for him to move on.

Edward, lost in thought, didn't notice right away that the music had stopped. However, he did take note when Isabella took the sleepy Jasper from his lap. Edward looked directly at her face as she pulled back from him with Jasper in her arms. He wondered why he'd ever thought her plain. Isabella was really kind of beautiful, on second glance.

 **AN: Finally some of Bella's story comes out. I am very excited for the next chapter, it's one of my favourites. I hope you'll see why.**

 **Loosely based on the film, Rachel and The Stranger, RKO Radio Pictures production, c.1948.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	9. Chapter 9

**I wish I could adequately convey my thanks to Vagabonda, to Beachcomberlc and to IpsitaC77 what their tireless help and friendship mean to me. There aren't enough words.**

 **Chapter 9**

With Jasper settled in bed and Emmett off playing, Carlisle inquired if the old tin bath was still in the barn. He had treated himself to a quick wash, a whore's bath as he called it, before dinner, but wanted a more thorough scrub before bedding down for the night.

Isabella, overhearing his request, added an extra copper kettle of water to the fire to temper his bath, while the two men went out to fill the tub with rainwater. She also grabbed an armful of toweling and brought it, along with a lantern, to the spot out behind the storage shed where they usually bathed. Carlisle was examining his shaving kit as Edward lugged buckets to the tub. He looked up when his friend's sweet and lovely _wife_ appeared.

"Warm water should only be a few more minutes."

"Thank you, Mrs. Masen, warm water will be a real treat after all these months of doing without. Mountain streams are mighty bracing for bathing. Makes me wish I had a bigger vessel than my shaving cup and frying pan to work with. Mind you, it's been so long since I shaved, my blade is probably rusted over and my strop eaten through."

"Here, give it me. I can see to it while you bathe." Bella held her hand out for the bag.

"You know the workings of a man's shaving kit?"

"I looked after my father for many years, Mr. Cullen. Some of the miners even paid for me to shave them. I was akin to the camp barber."

"Really? That doesn't seem fitting for a young lady." Edward broke into their conversation.

Bella was rankled by his judgement. She gave him a withering look from the corner of her eye before further explaining to both men. "Aside from being a musician, my father was also a crack shot. He would stand in front of every man I shaved with his shotgun primed and ready. I assure you, Mr. Masen, there was nothing untoward about the entire situation." Bella turned heel and walked back to the house to fetch the warmed water.

"Hoho." Carlisle let out an appreciative laugh as Edward's face turned sour. Edward snapped the back of his hand across Carlisle's chest. It did not stop him from laughing at Edward's expense.

By the time Bella returned, everything else was ready for Carlisle's bath, save the removal of his clothing. She placed the hot kettle on a flat rock near the bath and quickly walked back to the house. On the porch she set up a looking glass, chair and basin for the shave. She wouldn't offer to help Carlisle if _her husband_ thought it improper, but she could help him prepare. Either way, that great filthy beard had to go before he slept on her clean floors. She found an extra mattress that looked as if it would fit one of the boys' beds and made it up in the corner opposite the kitchen. If he were a late sleeper, she could still start her morning chores and hopefully not wake him.

Just as she finished, Edward came back into the house. He was taken aback that she would make a pallet for Carlisle to sleep.

"Rachel never let him sleep in the house," came out of his mouth unbidden. Isabella stood up quickly and dropped the pillow she was holding.

"I'm sorry. Do you not want your friend to stay here?"

"No, no I'm just shocked. Rachel found him disagreeable and too coarse, so she banished him to the barn to sleep."

"It's your house, Mr. Masen. Tell me what you prefer and I'll make it ready accordingly."

She kept her eyes downcast and Edward couldn't read her face. He found it very frustrating. He didn't have these kind of false starts and misunderstandings with Rachel. He didn't know how to negotiate with Isabella.

"I don't mind him in here if it's all the same to you."

"Like I said, it's your house." She finished the preparations and went back to the kitchen.

Edward thought he heard her whisper, ' _and I'm not Rachel,'_ but he may have been mistaken.

* * *

As the days had grown longer, Isabella had taken to sitting outside as the sun set and doing her sewing or mending in the waning light. Emmett was out enjoying bug catching and bat watching, so Edward found himself resting on the porch as well. Faint splashing and humming could be heard from behind the barn as Carlisle worked the grime from his skin.

Edward wanted to engage her in conversation, but didn't know how to start or even what to say to her. He was stymied. Rachel wasn't a big talker, but she'd listen as he talked about the crops, the fields and the animals. Having just discovered Isabella's past as a lady of wealth and breeding, Edward didn't think the dull news of getting rid of all the weeds on six acres of his planted land would be enough to keep her entertained.

Edward expected her to ask about the length of Carlisle's stay or for some information as to his character. She seemed to take everything in stride, never complaining or questioning. Isabella just took over the running of the house and homestead and left him to do as he pleased. All in all, he was happy Isabella fit in so effortlessly. There had been a lot of trial and error when Rachel had first arrived, but once Edward learned to do things her way, life became simple.

Edward watched out of the corner of his eye as she finished mending one of his shirts and moved on to patching a pair of Emmett's britches. She worked efficiently, and he tried to remember if he had ever seen Isabella's hands not busy with some sort of work or other task. He felt a bit guilty just sitting while she was still toiling.

Stretching the stiffness from his muscles, Edward stood and wandered over to the shed. He had started a new set of wooden animals for Jasper last fall, but hadn't found much time to work on them with having to do all the housework since Rachel died. He brought a few of them to the porch to whittle and sand as Isabella sewed. It was a very bucolic scene until Carlisle invaded the peace.

* * *

Carlisle looked fresh and dashing after his scrub. His hair was still wet and slicked back from his face. He was wearing a pair of dungarees and a grey shirt, still unbuttoned, but with the shirtsleeves rolled. There was a length of towelling draped across his shoulders and he was using one corner to wring any excess water from his beard. Even Edward had to admit Carlisle was a good-looking man, and he glanced at Isabella to gauge her response. There was a small smile on her face but nothing was seen there to indicate any lustful feelings toward the semi-clothed man walking near her.

"Eddie, get your shotgun, I want to hire your wife as my barber. I promise to be on my best behaviour if you'd grant me this service, Mrs. Masen."

The mister scowled at his friend, but Isabella just laughed. She glanced over at _her husband_ and waited until he gave a slight nod of approval. She wouldn't perform this task if he didn't allow it. She put away her mending and motioned him to the chair she had set up for that very purpose.

"The chair awaits, Mr. Cullen."

"Please call me Carlisle. I'd rather be familiar with the person who is going to hold a sharp blade to my neck." His eyes twinkled with mirth, more so because he could see the jealousy and discomfort his repartee was causing Edward.

"Then it's Bella. I prefer _Bella_ if we are to become familiar." She snapped a towel and wound it across his chest and shoulders. From her pocket she drew a small pair of scissors and began to trim as much beard as she could.

He rested heavily in the chair' his head back, his shirt falling open to reveal a well muscled abdomen and his eyes closed. He hummed when he could; when there wasn't any danger of having his skin sliced.

Edward watched, eagle-eyed, as his wife quickly rid his friend of his facial hair. It was like watching a couple dance. With just the touch of her finger, Carlisle moved the way she wanted him to, his head resting on her stomach, just under her breast. Edward hadn't paid much attention to Isabella's bosom before, but at this moment it held his entire focus. Or rather, Carlisle's closeness to her bosom held his focus. Morning after morning, Edward had shaved himself in cool water in the barn, not knowing that Isabella could have done the task for him. He wondered what it would feel like to have his head tucked into her soft stomach and to be able to open his eyes and look at the undersides of her breasts.

He really disliked his jovial friend in that moment. Carlisle had been able to glean more information out of his bride in one evening than Edward had in the few weeks they had been married. All by asking. He could have kicked himself. It hadn't occurred to him to ask Isabella about herself, her past or her skills. So consumed with the idea of having someone to look after him, Edward didn't take into account that there was a person behind the apron and that maybe, just maybe, life would be all the more sweet by talking to her. Isabella was enjoyable, witty, well-spoken and learned; so much more refined than he was. She was well travelled, hard-working and kind. He wished he had known all of this sooner, although he had no idea what difference it may have made in their relationship.

Isabella walked softly into the house so as not to disturb the quiet on the porch. She came back with a warm wet cloth and laid it over Carlisle's whole face, leaving space around his nose for him to breathe. She then turned and began to sharpen the blade from Carlisle's kit with a fresh strop she found in the cupboard. The gentle rhythmic swish, swish, swish of her movements added to the noises of the evening; crickets chirping, birds calling and the faint noise of Emmett whooping for joy when a particularly disgusting critter was found. Soon after came the soft sound of stirring as she worked the soap into a lather. Edward was certain if she'd taken any longer to begin shaving Carlisle, the man would have been snoring.

Working quickly, Isabella had Carlisle's cheeks smooth in no time. She then leaned further into him, his head nestled between her breasts, to attend to his neck. Edward's hand almost slipped on the small wolf he was carving; he would have beheaded the toy if he hadn't regained his temper. It was bizarrely erotic, watching another man being groomed by his bride. If his eyes hadn't already been green, they surely would be now. Edward tried to swallow down his jealousy. After all, Isabella was legally married to him. Carlisle would be less than a snake to try anything with a married woman, let alone the wife of his best friend.

Isabella finished without drawing any blood, a fact that irked Edward, for he wouldn't have minded seeing the man bleed a bit. She cleaned his face free of foam and hair trimmings, and walked back into the kitchen. Carlisle turned his face to Edward and grinned triumphantly. Isabella returned with two large glasses of cordial she had made earlier in the day from Rachel's stores, one for each of the men.

Bella pretended she didn't see any of the discord between the men, although it was so heavy one could almost touch it. She flung the basin of soapy water onto the grass and quickly swept the porch as the men drank, both of them wishing for something stronger.

When she retook her chair and mending, Carlisle thanked her.

"Never have I had a more gentle shave, thank you, Bella. If things don't work out with Steady Eddie here, you could earn your keep easily as a lady barber. Many men would kill for the experience and I'd be your best customer, dear lady." He took her hand in his and bent over it pretending to kiss her knuckles. He came up short of kissing her skin because he knew just faking it would be enough to gnaw at Edward's innards.

"Pssh, go on with you." She laughed freely until she saw the frown tugging at Edward's face.

 **AN: Eeeepp! Thank you to everyone who has recommended my story. You do my heart a wonderful turn.**

 **To the kind guest who asked about Jasper's paternity, that was a joke. Carlisle knew well how much Rachel hated him so the idea of making babies with her was hilariously funny. Carlisle liked to tease both her and Edward.**

 **So here's the thing, I had wrist surgery hours after first posting this story two months ago. I had to keep it secret for personal reasons. It was my dominant hand so typing was difficult. Therefore I have been horrible at answering reviews. I've been conserving my typing time to finishing writing the story, instead. That doesn't mean I don't treasure each and every review and reviewer. Now that I am much better and have increased range of motion, I will do better to answer and to thank you.**

 **As always, thank you for reading.**


	10. Chapter 10

**It's Thanksgiving weekend here in Nova Scotia. This year I am thankful for not only my family and friends but for my online community. I am very thankful for Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc, and IpsitaC77.**

 **Chapter 10**

Edward declared it time for rest, partly because he was tired from a long day's work and partly to stop any further irritating conversations between his wife and his friend. There was only so much he could take of their instant camaraderie. He called for Emmett to come in for the night.

Carlisle was surprised when Edward showed him to the bed that had been made up for him. He had been moments away from bunking in the barn as usual, and if Isabella hadn't made a little cough and fixed Edward with a pointed look, Carlisle imagined Edward would have been quite content have him bed down in the hay. Carlisle could not hold back his brewing laughter at his friend's actions.

Edward took no pleasure in being a good host to Carlisle, but he didn't want Isabella to think badly of him; she had gone to all that work anyway. He'd had just about enough of Carlisle tonight and didn't give a fig where the man bunked down; he actually found the idea of Carlisle bunking in the pigpen appealing.

Both men watched as she took her small pitcher of water up the steep ladder to the loft. Edward wanted to smack Carlisle again as he had earlier in the day for looking, as Isabella drew the privacy curtain across her little room. He wondered if he would have to keep a closer eye on his friend. At least Carlisle was prudent enough not to say anything about the fact that the married couple slept apart. Edward did not want to explain his reasoning behind that just yet.

Over a long spell in the outhouse, Edward deliberated through everything that had happened that evening and everything he had learned about his bride. By the time he returned to the house, it was fully dark outside with no moon or stars to guide him. Carlisle was fast asleep in the corner. Edward could see a glow coming from the loft. As he stood fixated, the curtain that should have sheltered her privacy threw Isabella's profile into relief; her silhouette highlighted by the light of a lantern set behind her. When she moved, he was shocked to find she was undressed and washing herself. He quickly cast his eyes down and walked to his bedroom. The image of Isabella was burned into his eyes and it took a long time for Edward to fall asleep. He slept poorly, woke often and had vivid dreams.

Edward was in a foul mood all the next day, everyone could see that. He snapped at Emmett, scowled at Carlisle and ignored Isabella over breakfast.

Carlisle joined him in the fields and waited well after lunch had been delivered before trying to engage him in conversation. Even then, Edward would only give single word answers or grunts. Carlisle knew enough of his friend to let it rest a day or two. Edward would work himself out of this funk and be the ever even-keeled, steady man Carlisle knew his friend to be.

* * *

When Edward didn't come out of his mood quickly enough, even after the few days grace he was given, Carlisle decided to put some distance between himself and his friend, and told Edward why in no short terms. Carlisle made his goodbyes to the entire household and journeyed off to town for a few days.

Edward was the only one who was pleased to be rid of him. He wondered at the gall of his friend to suggest that either Edward ' _piss or get off the pot'_ when it came to Isabella. That he should either try to take her as his wife properly or let her go. ' _Isabella was too good a woman to waste'_ , Carlisle had stated more than a few times, stoking Edward's sour mood.

There was still the matter of Isabella's debt, not that he had any designs toward selling it. Edward wasn't sure if it was proper to consider wooing her while he still held her debt. He felt as though he could be seen by others as taking advantage of her if she still owed him. Edward was more than satisfied with the work she had done and _if_ he were to sell her debt to someone else to free her for courting, he'd only ask maybe thirteen dollars rather than the sixteen he paid. Edward appreciated that he'd been able to expand the farm much more quickly than previously planned due to Isabella's smart industry around the homestead.

Edward could easily remember the look of admiration in his friend's eye whenever he caught him looking at Isabella. Carlisle had never looked at Rachel in that manner and it rankled Edward something fierce. It made him want to fight his friend for Isabella, but he found that notion ridiculous.

First off, Edward already had her, maybe not in all the ways possible, but legally, she was his wife. Second, he wasn't quite sure yet how he felt about her or how she might feel about him. Thirdly, he had said when they'd married, that it was for gossip's sake only. Edward felt he couldn't go about changing all the rules so soon by swooning over her. What if she didn't want him, or worse, laughed at him for trying? It would be a mighty painful four years if she laughed at him.

Perhaps it was best to leave things as they were for now and not think too much. Edward found it easier to keep a level head about things with Carlisle gone and not filling his head with stuff and nonsense. Isabella had agreed to be a servant, not a wife, and Edward had to admit to himself that he'd no clue how to even make her want to be his bride. He'd never swept a woman off her feet; hell, he'd had to write away for his first wife. He didn't know how to even begin to make Isabella fall for him. Unless he was certain she would return his affections, Edward wasn't going to press the matter.

* * *

Having spent four distressing days convincing himself to leave life as it was, Edward wasn't too pleased to have Carlisle come back from town in a clean, brand new suit of clothes, looking fancy and well-to-do and whistling a happy tune. What was even more vexing was that Carlisle was toting an injured dog, draped across his saddle, something sure to tug at the heartstrings of not only Edward's boys, but Isabella's as well. It was an unfair advantage that got his back up and itching for the possibility of a fight.

Just after he started building the farm, Edward had a dog as his companion; an ugly mangy mutt he called Rags, who smelled something awful, but was loyal and protective. When Rachel arrived, she made him get rid of it. Rachel hated dogs, cats too, even though she knew they were mighty useful on a farm. His boys, Emmett mostly, asked all the time if they could have one and it broke Edward's heart to say no. Now with Carlisle looking the hero with the boys for bringing back an injured dog, Edward might be losing any tiny chance he had of winning Isabella's affections. That is, _if_ he should decide to try for them.

Edward could see she had a great affection for the boys, Jasper in particular, and the importance of their happiness could make Carlisle seem better than him, in her eyes. Edward reasoned that if Carlisle was the one to bring joy to the boys, then he would be pleasing Isabella, too. Edward had no idea how to even start trying to please Isabella or how to make her the slightest bit happy. In truth, he wasn't even sure what made _him_ happy.

Edward scowled as Carlisle slid down from his saddle and gently lowered the dog safely to the ground. He felt Jasper tug at his pant leg and heard him whisper ' _Doggy'._ Edward knew there would be no refusal of the mutt. As soon as it was on solid ground, it fell over, whimpering. Emmett ran to it, begging his father to keep the stricken animal. Edward turned to Isabella, fixing her with a look that tried to convey it was up to her.

"I hope you don't mind," Carlisle looked sincere and concerned, "but I found her on the trail back there and she looks hurt. I can take her over the ridge and deal with her if you don't want her."

"You will do no such thing." Isabella stood firm, her eyes flashing. She wasn't going to ask for Edward's permission, he could see that, and he was happy to give her the responsibility. Both boys let out a whoop of joy.

"Take her into the barn and set her a bed. I'll get some food for the poor thing." Bella started to march back into the house when she stopped short and looked at her husband. She waited until Carlisle and the boys left the yard before speaking.

"I'm sorry if I presumed, Mr. Masen. But the creature needs help." She looked as though she wanted to say more but was holding back.

"No, no it's all right. I don't mind and the boys will love it. Rachel never allowed us to have a dog." Edward had started to notice Isabella's brow furrowed ever so slightly whenever he'd mentioned Rachel. He figured it must be a woman thing. He watched as Isabella resumed her march into the house and could hear her foraging for scraps for the dog. Edward followed and eyed her for a moment.

"Isabella?"

She hummed in response but didn't stop what she was doing to engage with him.

"Do you think you could maybe call me _Edward_ instead of _Mr. Masen_?"

Bella almost dropped what she was doing and turned to gape at him.

"I mean, we were married almost two months ago and it's getting odd to be so formal, and you call Carlisle by his given name and all." Isabella didn't speak and her heavy silence made him want to keep chattering on despite himself.

"I don't mean to offend you, if that is the tradition you were raised with, coming from money and all. But it strikes me a bit strange to call your husband by his last name and title, when you're living side by side in the same house everyday." Edward willed himself to stop talking and sucked in a lungful of air through his teeth. He felt like an idiot and probably looked like one, too. He thought about walking away and pretending this lopsided conversation never happened, when she finally spoke.

"If you wish, Edward. Please, call me _Bella_ ; I'd much prefer that."

Relieved, Edward relaxed, running his hand over his face and into his hair while letting out a deep sigh.

"Can I ask why you never said anything before?" He asked before his brain could catch up with his mouth. He kind of feared her answer; he hadn't meant to ask and was more nervous now than before. After all, what if the answer was because she didn't like him? Edward watched Bella's face as she gathered her thoughts. When she spoke, he was taken aback by what she said.

"I wasn't sure how familiar you allowed your employees to be in addressing you. I felt it better to err on the side of caution rather than presume to use your given name. It seemed more prudent to be formal until I was invited." Her tone was a bit haughty and it took him a minute to figure out what she was saying.

"But, you're not my employee, Bella, you're my wife." He didn't understand why she didn't see the distinction. He didn't think he treated her like a servant, really. Not since the first few days, at least.

Bella took the bowl of food she had prepared for the dog and started for the barn. She gave him a single word response that puzzled him and left him thinking for the rest of the afternoon.

"Indeed."

* * *

Emmett and Jasper spent the rest of the day in the barn with the dog. Jasper had to be picked up and carried out at dinner time. They named her Leah, and fought over who got to pet and hold her the most. There was nothing wrong with her that a good meal, a long rest and a bath couldn't cure. Edward gave her a once over, just in case, but he was satisfied. She was lousy with burrs and had a deep, but healing, cut on her front paw. Emmett wanted her to sleep in his room and went so far as to ask if Jasper could move out to make room for Leah. For fear of fleas, the dog spent the first few days and nights in the barn. Emmett and Jasper supervised the building of a small house for her, as Bella braided a sturdy mat for Leah to keep her warm. Carlisle and Edward placed the house to one side of the porch and Leah happily moved into her new home. She became a welcome addition to the small family, with it's odd make-up and she fit in perfectly.

Carlisle, not having found a woman to court in town, stayed on to help Edward with the farmwork. Edward tried hard to swallow his jealousy at the way Carlisle engaged with Bella. Their easy friendship bothered him, but he had no clue how to go about becoming friends with Bella. Edward invariably said or did the wrong thing when trying to talk to her. Words felt awkward and foreign in his mouth. The back of his neck would be drenched in sweat whenever he got up the gumption to speak to Bella. Edward found it much easier to sit back and listen, hoping some of Carlisle's effortless banter would rub off on him.

It didn't.

 **AN:** **This story is loosely based on the film, _Rachel and The Stranger,_ RKO Radio Pictures c. 1948.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	11. Chapter 11

**I own nothing. Without Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77, this story would be a right mess. Thank you ladies, for you help and friendship.**

 **Chapter 11**

Over the next couple of days, Emmett's temper grew to a boiling point. With Carlisle there to help, he wasn't needed for farming. His papa made him spend time with Bella to get some schooling. Emmett felt he was a big boy and didn't need any more stupid schooling than what he already had. After all, he wouldn't need it to trap animals and hunt like his hero, Carlisle. He could read fair enough and work some sums; there wasn't much need of anything else like history or geography. And he sure as shootin' didn't need to be learning from _her_. If it'd been his own mama, he'd hafta put up with it, maybe. He woulda hated it, and kicked up a fuss, but he woulda done the work in the end. He might have learnt something from his mama, too, but he ain't gonna learn from Bella. What did she know, anyway? After all, she was just a servant. Papa'd said that much when he introduced her.

* * *

Edward made the error of not telling Bella to expect Emmett for lessons for the next while. After a day or two of not hearing anything about Emmett's schooling, Edward decided to check on the boy's progress. No sooner had he asked Bella about it after breakfast one morning, than Emmett shot from his seat and ran out of the house like the devil was chasing him. It took Edward and Carlisle the better part of an hour to find the boy. When they did, Emmett got a sharp lecture from Edward about the importance of listening, learning and respecting your elders.

Emmett tried to tell his papa that Bella was mean to him, but Papa didn't buy it. He tried to tell Papa that he had already learned everything he needed to know, but again, his cause was knocked down. Emmett kicked, screamed and fussed the whole way back to the house. He sat out part of his punishment in the corner, as his papa had dictated, until _she_ let him go free. He would sorely miss having desserts for the rest of the week, but Emmett figured it was a small price to pay for not having to learn from _her_.

The worst thing about Papa's punishments was being barred from playing with _his dog_ , Leah. Leah had gotten much stronger, her coat was glossy and she was not so skinny. She earned her keep by chasing foxes and coyotes from the chicken coop, and even managed to run off a small black bear that had gotten too close to the house. One of Emmett's few delights in life was playing with Leah, and the hour between chores and dinner was his time with her, just a boy and his dog.

When learning time came about, Emmett sat at the table with his arms crossed, and refused to work when _she_ gave him some sums to work. He tossed the reader across the room and ripped up the page of letters he was to practise writing.

Bella, on her last nerve, sent Emmett packing with his fishing pole in hand, for the rest of the day. Further distressing her was the fact that Jasper had witnessed the whole scene without making a peep, his eyes as big as saucers. Jasper was such a sweet, happy child that it broke Bella's heart to see him react to his brother's tantrums with fear in his eyes. The solemn little boy watched as she tried to hide her tears after Emmett ran out the door with a loud and victorious ' _whoop'_.

Bella tried again to teach Emmett the next day, and the day after that, without success. She let Edward assume that his talking-to with his son did the trick; neither Bella nor Emmett mentioned anything untoward about lessons to him. In truth, Bella didn't want to admit to Edward her failure in reaching Emmett. Jasper, however, was an eager pupil and took to his lessons well. He behaved and learned as much as a three-year-old could, and Bella was proud of his progress.

Emmett tried to stem the wave of jealousy he felt watching his baby brother warm up to the new girl. She treated both of them with kindness and patience and while he thought it was kinda nice of her, something was holding him back. Something inside him kinda made him want to be cared for by Bella, 'cause she wasn't all that bad, but another part of Emmett felt sorta like he owed all his love to his mama. And that part made him wanna hate Bella - as if everything was all her fault. He didn't know why she didn't tattle on him to his father, because he dang sure woulda tattled on her. He woulda sold her down the river in a heartbeat if it meant his mama could come back.

Confusion and frustration weighed on the boy until he finally broke. On a daily basis, Emmett began to hurl insult after insult at Bella, the angry, six-year-old kind of insult. He called her names and accused her of getting rid of his mama until he could see the tears in _her_ eyes, as he made his escape out the door. Even once he was by himself, he didn't understand why it didn't make him happy to win the fight. It made him more sad and his tummy felt all jumbled up.

* * *

The morning he was found out, Edward had returned to the homestead early to fetch another whetstone, and caught the tail end of one of Emmett's rants. Edward could not believe the rage coming from his boy. He stormed into the house and let the door slam open, scaring everyone inside. Jasper ran from his place at the table and into his bedroom to hide. The little boy didn't want to be there if there was going to be more yelling.

Emmett stood in the middle of the kitchen with his hands fisted at his side. His face was red from screaming and he had tears running down his cheeks. Bella sat calmly at the table with various school supplies in front of her. She didn't seem overly affected by his tirade, although there were spots of red high on her cheek bones.

Edward glared at his boy. He'd never heard this kind of anger come from Emmett before. He had no idea his son could be so cruel and he wondered why Bella just sat there and took it. Without saying a word, Edward lifted one hand and pointed to the barn. Emmett seemed to understand the gravity of the situation. He hung his head and slowly walked out of the house. Edward then addressed Bella.

"How long has this been going on?"

"A few days," she answered with a sigh.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"May I speak freely, sir?"

That question confused the hell out of Edward. Why wouldn't she speak her mind? And why call him _sir_? Surely they were past all that. Nonetheless, he nodded.

"He's still mourning his mother and taking it out on me. The boy needs time to adjust to me doing things with him that his mother would do, like lessons and such."

"He shouldn't be talking to you like that. You're my wife and that makes you his mama, doesn't it?"

"In name only. I'm still the hired help in his eyes, a servant. He needs to let it all out and this is the only way he knows how. I thought if I let him have his tantrum, we could resolve the situation later. I have to earn his respect and I thought not involving you in our fight would go a long way towards that. I need to show him that I'll be here for him, no matter what he says or does." She ran her finger along the edge a book, over and over, to keep herself from either shouting or crying, or both.

"But he's my boy. You need to tell me when he's misbehaving."

"That might make him think that I'm too weak to fight my own battles. You were a boy once, surely you remember just how frustrating life can be. Sometimes you need to yell and scream to get your feelings sorted." Bella paused to let him remember for a bit.

Edward sighed and swiped his hand over his face; he knew what she was talking about. Emmett had his feelings all jumbled up in knots and the only way he could let them out was by acting up. Edward well remembered being confused as a boy and striking out at things. Trees, rocks, or fences took the brunt of his anger. Not his parents, never his parents, or the animals at the farm. He never struck out at anything that could be hurt.

"He still needs to be punished and this behaviour cannot be allowed to continue." Edward declared.

"I agree. Please don't hit him. It won't solve anything." Bella stood and laid her hand gently on his arm, her soft brown eyes pleading with him.

Edward looked from her pained face to her hand and realised how nice it was to have her hand on him, warm and comforting. It felt a little calming as well, much like a balm on a sunburn, soothing and cooling at the same time. The sensation lasted just until Bella removed her hand, curled her fingers, and held her loosely-closed fist to her heart.

The skin of Bella's palm quivered, sending a pulse to her heart that concerned her. She shouldn't feel, didn't want to feel the stirrings of anything for this man. He didn't see her as a wife, and nothing good ever comes of a servant falling for her employer. Although, it would be so easy to care more for this misguided man if he only gave her cause.

"I would never beat my family. My father was very free with his belt and I swore to myself I'd never be like that, like him." Edward looked into Bella's eyes to show how serious he was. She gazed back at him with a look he couldn't quite place; it could have been a bit of admiration mixed with pride, but he didn't mind if it were either. It was a soft, accepting look, and one of the kindest ones she had given him of late.

The moment was far too fleeting for either of them and as much as they wanted to enjoy this new found understanding, there was a sad six-year-old in need of parenting hiding somewhere on the farm.

Edward found Emmett in the barn and they had words. Edward was gentle but firm. He listened to Emmett's thoughts and refuted every one of the boy's complaints about Bella. Emmett finally broke down and got to the heart of the matter. They spent a long time talking about Rachel and how she would feel about Bella.

The young boy realized that his mother would have wanted him to be cared for by someone as kind as Bella. But that didn't make it any easier, having someone around who wasn't his mama. Papa let him know there was nothing wrong with having many people who want to care for you. His mama had said something like that to him when Jasper was born. They all had enough love to share and that included Jasper, too. Papa said that while Rachel would always be his mother, Bella could become his friend.

* * *

When, after several hours, neither Edward nor Emmett came back to the house, Bella went looking for them in the barn. Jasper clung to her skirts as she walked. The barn was empty, save for the animals, so Bella and Jasper walked the path that led to the water and Emmett's favourite fishing spot.

On the way, they found Emmett, alone at Rachel's grave, sobbing. Edward must have gone back to work. No words were spoken. Bella gathered him in her arms and rocked him until his tears subsided. Jasper sat beside them, one hand still holding Bella's skirt and the other with two fingers in his mouth, until he fell asleep.

After Emmett had calmed his crying enough, Bella cleaned his face with the hem of her apron and gently kissed his forehead. She picked up the still sleeping Jasper and carried him home, with a contrite and subdued Emmett in tow. The rest of their afternoon was spent with Bella reading to them on the front porch until the men came back from the fields.

The evening meal was sombre. No one brought up what had happened, but everyone was thinking about it. After dinner, Carlisle brought out his squeeze box and Bella played the piano. Emmett quickly tired, especially due to his emotional day, so when it came time for Jasper to go to bed, he went as well.

It was a lovely warm summer's night, so the adults spent the remainder of it outside on the porch. Edward sat with his back to the railing and facing Bella's rocking chair. From his position on the top stair, Carlisle kept up his concertina playing with as many bawdy songs as he could remember to lighten the mood. Bella surprised both by knowing the words to some of the more colourful songs, before she could remind them of her past by her father's side at the saloon and mining camp. Bella always seemed refined and cultured; the image of her being free and rowdy was immensely appealing to both men. After Edward brought out a jug of homemade whiskey and the men had a few drinks, Carlisle decided it was too nice a night to sleep indoors. He made a production of finding his bedroll and wandered off to sleep under the stars. The sweet sound of Bella's laughter warmed Edward's heart as they watched Carlisle swagger away.

"Bella? Thank you for being good to my boys. You're mighty kind." Edward let his sentence trail off as if he wanted to say more.

"You're welcome. They're good boys; easy to care for."

"You've done a real good job since being here." Edward noticed that her face fell a bit when he mentioned her job. He didn't know how to say what was in his mind. Edward wanted to tell her that he appreciated her and the way she stepped into another woman's domain, but he always became tongue-tied. He wanted Bella to know that he was happier now than he'd been for a long time, that he hoped she would stay with them, forever.

They both stood up at the same time, bringing them face-to-face and closer than they'd ever been. Edward could feel the heat coming from her body and her breath gently swept across his face as she tilted her face up to see him better. A heady moment passed between them and he could feel his body wanting to inch closer to hers, but his mind was holding him back. It would have been so easy to lean in ever so slightly and kiss her, but as the moment grew awkward, Edward pulled back, the tips of his ears turning beet red.

With less strength in his voice than usual, he wished her goodnight and stomped off to the barn to clear his mind. She was up in the loft with her lantern out before he made it back to the house.

 **AN: Poor Emmett, at least Bella understood his behaviour.**

 **This story updates every Friday, around 11am Atlantic time. It is also loosely based on the RKO Radio Pictures production of the film _Rachel and The Stranger_ , c.1948. **

**Thank you for reading.**


	12. Chapter 12

**I would be lost without Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc, and IpsitaC77. Please show them some love. They tweaked and edited this chapter over and over because I kept messing with it.**

 **Chapter 12**

Emmett's behaviour improved. He stopped yelling and treating Bella badly. He still objected to the lessons and learning from Bella, but he tried hard not to let his father know. He did everything he was supposed to do, but slowly and with a pout. It wasn't really that much of an improvement, but it was some, and Bella let Edward know of the change. After a two week spell of good enough behaviour, as a reward, Edward allowed him to accompany Carlisle on a short hunt. Emmett had been going on short trips with Carlisle for just over a year now and he desperately wanted to go again. As part of his punishment, Emmett hadn't even touched his fishing pole in two weeks, nor had he been allowed to play in the woods. Chores, schooling and playing in the barnyard with Leah was all he was allowed to do and the boy had pent-up energy to burn.

Bella packed a camp roll, supplies and food in a bag small enough for a young boy to carry easily. They were all in awe of her for doing this; in the past, Rachel would have pitched a fit and made them pack for themselves. Rachel did not like Carlisle taking her first-born anywhere by himself; if Edward accompanied them, fine, but not that scoundrel alone. Rachel's sour attitude usually put a damper on the trips, at least for the first few hours. Bella's help and generosity sent them off in a happy mood. For them to have the fallback of bread and hard biscuits alone was a luxury, not to mention the other goodies Bella had packed for them and Emmett was delighted. Carlisle was thrilled. A furlough from a diet of rabbit and squirrel was one of the main reasons he spent so much time with his friend, Edward.

These trips invariably involved foraging for berries or wild vegetables, but mostly they ate fish or whatever small game they could catch. There was lots of disgusting behaviour such as scratching one's parts openly or practice spitting for distance. As sure as eggs is eggs, there would be other rites of passage observed on these trips. For example, when Emmett was old enough, he would be taught to cuss, shoot and be educated in the ways of men and women.

Edward was surprised to see tears in Bella's eyes as she waved them off. She laughed to herself before gathering Jasper up in a firm embrace. It was only three days, but the loss of almost half of the family did not go unnoticed. Even the dog was gone, Leah trailing after Emmett like a shadow. Suddenly, the house was too quiet and sombre. Although there was no music after dinner, nightfall found Edward lurking in the doorway of the boys' room, listening as Bella sang Jasper to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Bella was able to give the house a thorough cleaning while Edward took Jasper berry picking. Her quiet industry was interrupted by their noisy return. Jasper came home shouting with glee; his face, hands, hair and shirt stained a lovely shade of purplish-red. Bella laughed instead of scolded, especially when Edward stuck out his tongue to show its own unnatural hue. Bella smiled at his antics, and beamed when she sampled a taste of the sweet fruit. They were large berries, dark purple, almost black, and there were plenty of them as well as a small bucket of the smaller, red thimbleberries.

"We found a mulberry tree that still had ripe fruit. Part of it was shaded so the fruit took a bit longer to ripen. A little late in the season, but there are several buckets worth. If you can get to cleaning Jasper, I can go fetch the rest."

Bella was overjoyed. She'd sent them out for enough thimbleberries to make pies. With the extra fruit she could put up some jam or jelly for winter. But none of this could happen with a sticky purple boy awaiting a good scrub.

Jasper took to his first bath well, but started to grumble and fuss when Bella began scrubbing the stain from his skin. She let him run around unclothed for a bit to dry off when she heard Edward return. He dropped off three old milk buckets filled to the brim with berries and trotted away to get the rest. It took longer than anticipated for him to return with the second load, and when he made his appearance, it was evident why. He carried three more buckets easily, but had a huge gash in his shirt that was stained red with blood. Bella gasped at the sight. She didn't like the sight of blood, it made her feel odd. Her own blood made her faint, but the blood of others made her feel queer, although not quite sick.

Edward tried to reassure her his injury wasn't serious, but Bella wasn't deterred. She made sure Jasper was fully asleep on a small pile of hay, shaded by the barn, before forcing Edward into a chair on the porch and tending to his wound. He explained as she tended him.

"I climbed up the tree to get at a few more berries near the top and the branch gave way. It's been a long time since I climbed a tree, I guess you can say I'm rusty at it. I gouged my shoulder on the way down."

"Nothing else is hurt then? Just the shoulder?" Bella gathered some bandages along with the witch hazel and started to unbutton his shirt. The tear she could easily mend and the blood would soak out; no need to cut the shirt from him and ruin a perfectly serviceable garment. If Edward could walk and carry buckets, he could suffer through taking his shirt off the normal way.

"My shoulder, my ego and my caboose. But I'm only letting you fix my shoulder." They both blushed at his remark.

Edward winced as she pulled his shirt from his arms and watched her as she assessed the wound.

"It's deep. I'll need to stitch it. Do you have any more whiskey?"

"To drink or to clean it?" He was hoping for one over the other.

"Both. This might hurt."

Edward grimaced and told her where he kept his stores. He waited, pressing a dry cloth to his shoulder, while Bella fetched one of the jugs from the springhouse. She shocked the hell out of him when she took a healthy pull at the jug after he did.

After thoroughly washing his shoulder area with the witch hazel, Bella dipped the corner of a bandage into a small saucer of whiskey she had poured and held it to the gash for a few minutes. She let the alcohol soak into the wound and waited for the small trickle of blood to slow. Then she wet her thread and needle in the alcohol before sewing up his wound. Edward swore with the first stitch and Bella paused for a moment so he could take another drink.

The next stitch was easier, but she quickly found the angle to be tricky. Without warning or thought, Bella put down her needle, hiked her skirts to her knees and straddled his legs. Edward's hands reacted before his brain could register what was happening, and he found himself holding her hips.

Stunned by her own behaviour, Bella looked at Edward, wide-eyed. They were so close they could feel each other's breath, not only on their skin, but by the rise and fall of their chests. Bella looked down at his injury but was befuddled by the sight of his bare chest, the smooth, taut skin dusted with a light smattering of coarse golden hair.

She hadn't thought this through.

It had seemed natural to climb onto Edward's lap to sew him up but it became so very astonishing as soon as she did it. Protected as she was by a bunched-up, light cotton skirt and her summer weight petticoat and bloomers, Bella could still feel the muscles of his thighs beneath her own. This closeness should not have felt familiar to her, but strangely it did; familiar, comfortable and risqué all at the same time.

Bella realised the intimate position she had placed herself in was scandalous. She'd seen the whores and dancing girls perch on men's laps like this at the saloon, but she didn't feel in the very least like a whore in Edward's lap.

She was at such a crossroads with this man, her husband. Surely any other wife would feel welcome to sit astride her husband, and most men would encourage this behaviour. But the line between servant and wife was barbed with twists of wire for her. She was both and neither, as confusing as it was. Bella felt indecent and powerful, all at the same time, as well as frightened and excited. As she heard Edward's breathing stutter, Bella drew her bottom lip into her mouth and bit hard to clear her mind. She turned her attention to the task at hand and did her best to ignore the man beneath her.

It was easier and faster to tend to his wound while sitting astride him. The last four stitches went in quickly and, thanks to the whiskey, almost painlessly. Bella cleaned the area and dabbed it with a cloth soaked in witch hazel. She started to feel the affects of the shot of whiskey she had downed, and a warmth rose from her stomach to her face. Or perhaps the heat was rising from him - she couldn't make the distinction.

Edward held fast to Bella's hips. She hadn't moved much other than just a little shimmy, but it was enough to awaken his senses, particularly his male senses. He'd never had a woman sit astride him like this, but Edward had seen naughty pictures depicting such an act. The salacious thrill of it ran from the crown of his head down to the heels of his feet and back up again before settling in his groin. It had been a long time since the last 'you may' from Rachel, and Edward was titillated. As much as he wanted Bella to leave his lap before he got too excited or embarrassed himself, he desperately wanted her to stay put, and perhaps she could move about some for a while. These thoughts ran rampant through Edward's mind and he didn't even notice that Bella had finished sewing his torn flesh. Edward cleared his throat in an effort to clear his mind, but it didn't help; the vibration from his throat rippled its way through his body and settled in his cock with a firm jolt. Stupefied, Edward was transfixed until the cold sting of the antiseptic jolted him out of his reverie and he, too, blushed.

Feeling him start beneath her, Bella's focus shifted from Edward's shoulder to his eyes. For the first time, she was close enough to clearly see their colour, a fetching mixture of green and blue, much like seawater. The shade reminded her of the long voyages she had taken with her parents. As she gazed at him, there was a look of intensity in his eyes that she had not seen from him, nor in fact from any man. It made Bella feel intoxicated and heady to have Edward look at her like that, to have him regard her with such fervor. She felt an urge to run her fingers through his tousled hair and smooth it in a show of affection, or as a precursor to something more intimate.

Bella had been regarded with want and lust before, plenty of times before, but this look was different. There was a reverence there, underneath the longing and desire, that hinted at something profound. Unnerved and disarmed by what she saw in Edward's eyes, Bella quickly realised it was too complicated a look for the situation they found themselves in. It was too soon and too much, so Bella swiftly lifted herself from his lap and busied herself cleaning up the medical supplies in an effort to regain her composure. She desperately needed to re-examine her thoughts and to stop herself from doing something rash and inappropriate.

Edward sat there in a fog. One second she was there, the next, gone. His missed the warmth of her and the possibility of pleasure until he realised what was happening. Watching Bella fuss about, tidying, made him wonder if she knew of his reaction to her closeness and the carnal thoughts that ran through his mind. He really hoped she did not. Shamefaced, Edward thanked her for her tending and strode off to the barn for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

Edward walked back to the house slowly when Bella called him for dinner. He was surprised to find, instead of a meal at the dinner table, a picnic on the porch for the three of them. Jasper was exceptionally clean from his three baths and there wasn't a spot of mulberry juice on him. The young boy giggled throughout the entire meal. Jasper thought eating on the porch was the grandest thing ever. He'd take a bite or two, then either run the length of the porch or bounce down the stairs. His joy was infectious and his antics made Bella laugh. Edward managed a laugh or two as well, but mostly he enjoyed her reactions to his son. Bella looked young and pretty; far prettier than he had seen her before. Far too pretty to be married to the likes of him. And far, far too good for a rogue like Carlisle, if he should ever decided to wed. Edward could picture her married to a city man, a lawyer or doctor, perhaps a fancy politician.

However, Bella was married to him; she was his bird in hand and one well worth keeping. Edward decided then and there that he would try to win her regard and hopefully, her affections. He had dithered about the subject for long enough. With Carlisle away and no longer breathing down his neck or pulling her eye from him, now would be a good time to start wooing her.

"It's nice to see Jasper having a grand time like this. Rachel never let us have a picnic on the porch." He smiled what he hoped was his most endearing smile. He watched in dismay as the joy melted from Bella's eyes. She began to clean up the meal and stood to bring the dishes into the house. Before he could get to his feet, she was gone.

Bella deserting them did nothing to stop Jasper's games, so Edward stayed on the porch to watch him. When he started to tire, Edward held him on his lap and hummed to him until the boy dozed off. As he carried the sleeping child into the house, he saw Bella standing at the sink, slowly washing the dishes. She didn't turn to look at him, and he said nothing for fear of waking the boy. After Jasper was securely tucked into his bed, Edward walked back into the main room to find it empty. There was no light streaming from the loft and Bella wasn't on the porch. Edward stood in the vacant room and scratched his head. He had no idea why she'd just up and left like that. Not wanting to disturb her by climbing the ladder and interrupting her in the loft, he decided he'd ask her in the morning.

 **AN: I'm starting to think I should have named this story _'One step forward, two step back'_ or something like that. Thankfully, though, one of our characters grows a set next chapter, and it's not Edward. And there will be kissing, but not for a bit longer.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Many, many thanks to Vagabonda for her hard work editing, correcting and polishing this story. IpsitaC77 makes the most beautiful banners and pre-reads, leaving pearls of kindness in her wake. Beahcomberlc is incomparable. For over two years she has guided and helped me, and I adore her.**

 **Chapter 13**

When he got himself ready the next day, Edward was surprised not to find Bella in the kitchen, cooking as usual. Judging by the height of the morning sun, he knew he had overslept. His breakfast was on the table, covered with a cloth and still quite warm, but Bella wasn't there. He could hear Jasper snuffling, asleep in his room but other than that, the house was silent. He stood at the bottom of the ladder and whisper-shouted her name; there was no response.

Edward ate his breakfast quickly. He hoped she'd show up before he was done or he might gain more time to try to find her, wherever she was. He didn't have much time before the chores demanded to be done. Edward all but ran to the barn to see if he could catch up with her. Bella wasn't in the chicken coop, but the birds had their disgruntled, dishevelled look as if she'd been there recently. He didn't find Bella tending any of the cows, but since they didn't complain when they saw him, he knew they'd just been milked. The milking pair and their calves all had fresh straw as well. Bella must have risen well before dawn to have almost all her morning chores done before he was even dressed. Edward wondered if she had slept at all the night before.

Usually, he was able to do a few of his own tasks before Bella had his breakfast ready. It was their routine. They usually woke around the same time, and he'd head to the barn as she readied breakfast. It was comfortable and homey, but this, her upsetting the routine, left a sour taste at the back of his throat and he was worried. Bella's confusing behaviour last night coupled with this morning's absence made him feel queasy.

Edward finally found her in the cold spring house where she was organizing the churn, with two buckets of skimmed cream beside her for making butter. The churn was heavy and awkward, as it was a five quart stoneware jar. When it had been time to make butter previously, Bella would ask for his assistance over breakfast. Edward would lug the contraption from its storage and set it up for her before he went to the fields. This was the first time she'd tried to do it all by herself. Edward watched as Bella wrestled the long barrel, lid, and plunger from its spot. Edward rushed over to help, but his sudden movement startled her. She dropped the lid and they both watched as it clattered on the barn floor, stirring up dust. A faint groan escaped her.

Edward bent to pick it up, but was surprised to find the lid in Bella's hand before he could reach for it. He was taken aback by the beginnings of tears in her eyes. He wanted to hold her and soothe her, but didn't think his comfort would be accepted. When Bella spoke, she refused to look him in the eye.

"I don't think it's damaged, sir, but if it is, you could add the price of it to my debt. I shall endeavour to be more careful in the future, especially with your possessions." Bella dropped a quick curtsey after she spoke to him.

She grabbed the plunger and a bucket of cream, then stomped off toward the house. Edward could hear the clatter of the wood plunger hitting the porch. Almost faster than he could blink, Bella was back to take the crock, hefting it in her arms with a grunt of effort. By the time Edward came to his senses and realised something was greatly amiss, Bella had returned a second time for the lid to the butter churn and the second bucket of cream. As he walked back to the house, he could hear her muttering as she put the machine together.

Edward watched for a bit, at a complete loss for reason. Yesterday had been lovely, for the most part. He thought she had warmed to him some. He'd certainly became warm when she was nursing his wound. They had enjoyed dinner, Jasper's antics and each other's company until something set her back up. Her moods changed faster than the weather, and it confused the hell out of him. He tried and failed to think what might have angered her. The whole day had been a peek into what their family could be, but now Bella was storming about and had gone back to calling him 'sir'. She was using big words and a very formal manner with him, much more so than when he first brought her here.

Jasper appeared on the porch in his nightdress, sleepy and yawning, and Bella immediately rushed to his side, the churn and the cream forgotten in the shade of the porch. Edward looked on as they disappeared into the house. His first instinct was to scratch his head in bewilderment, which was not the most productive use of his time. Edward decided it was best to start his chores rather than just stand there. He knew he needed some good, hard physical labour to clear his confused mind.

* * *

Edward thought about the change in Bella's mood while he cleaned up the stalls and fed the stock. As he worked, topping up the wood pile, he compared the happy girl from last night to the sultry vixen who sat on his lap, and then both of them to the frosty woman he met that morning. The man had no idea what could have changed so much overnight.

Maybe it was her time of the month. Rachel always became short-tempered during a moon cycle and Edward knew enough about animal husbandry and heat to understand her humors. With Rachel, he just made himself scarce until she was in a better mood. He kept a little chart of hash marks on an old board, out of view in the barn so he wouldn't be caught unawares. It took him a few months to catch on to Rachel's pattern after Emmett was born. His chart saved him from many a tongue-lashing about his supposed disgusting male behaviours.

Edward had no idea what to do for Bella if that was the situation. He didn't want to start a new chart if it wasn't needed. After all, Bella had been there for several months and Edward couldn't recall having an issue like this with her before. He wondered if women were different from each other. Maybe some gals had worse times, and perhaps this was an extra bad month for Bella.

Mucking out the stalls allowed Edward's mind to wander and a romantic thought struck him. He hurried through the last of his morning chores, pleased as punch to have time to fulfill his new quest. He knew where there was a field of wildflowers nearby, just over the ridge. Edward would take the boys there once in awhile to gather a nosegay for their mother and to help make the house smell pretty for her.

Once there and looking around the field, he had a sneaking suspicion it would take more than their usual small posy of flowers to charm Bella. Edward picked an armful, enough to decorate the dinner table and for her to have a few in a jar in the loft as well. He tried his hardest to gather nice-looking colours and sizes. He even took extra care to shake them loose of bugs and dirt.

As Edward walked back to the house, he suddenly felt shy and awkward. He'd been at the stage in his marriage to Rachel where he didn't have to really try to romance her anymore, not that there had ever been much romancing. Rachel was content with any gesture, even a saucy slap to her bottom or some consideration from him, such as him taking his boots off before coming in the house. He was still negotiating Bella; he had no idea if giving her flowers would calm her temper or enrage it. But he knew enough not to pinch her rear. They weren't there just yet, although he dearly desired to be.

Edward found his steps slowing as he neared the house, partly because he didn't know what to say to her and partly because he could see Carlisle's horse tied up to the corral fence by the water trough. Edward could hear the loud chatter of Emmett's return and cursed his friend for his horrible timing. Worse yet, Carlisle had a veritable bower of wild roses across the horn of his saddle that he was in the process of presenting to Bella. It rankled him to see the large buck across the back of Carlisle's saddle and the four ducks dangling from the left side. The short hunt looked as though it had been very successful.

Edward left his armful of flowers on the porch in the shade and walked over to greet his son. Emmett, while filthy, looked happier than Edward had seen him in months. The boy was allowing Bella to stroke his hair as he told her all about his adventures. Leah was happily weaving in and out of all the legs of the group. As Edward neared, Emmett caught sight of him and ran over. Edward felt his heart contract a little more forcefully when he got affection from his child. Walking over to the group, the scene laid out before him was of a happy family being reunited and, for a second, he felt as though he was the outsider, not the head of the family. Holding a pungent Emmett in his arms centred him and made him feel better. Leah jumped up at him, barking as if to say 'let go of my boy' and Edward laughed.

It was then that he noticed Leah and how her belly swelled. He hadn't paid much attention to the dog since she had arrived. She stuck to the boys and tended to stay away from the men with a respectful fear. She would listen and obey when he commanded her, but gravitated towards the children first, Bella second and Edward last. The cut on her paw had healed quickly and her coat had turned glossy with regular and good feeding. With care, Leah had turned into a very handsome bitch. However, the three days away was just long enough for the litter of puppies she carried to make themselves known. By the size of her, Edward's guess was that their little family would be gaining new members within a week or two.

He watched as Carlisle lifted the roses from his saddle and carried them into the house. Bella let Edward know she had spoken to Carlisle about rose hips for teas and cordials before he'd left. Perhaps she'd seen the look of displeasure on his face as he watched his friend or maybe she just had a burst of female intuition, but she seemed to bring it up just as Edward was imagining ways to kill his friend and make it look accidental.

* * *

The men spent the rest of the day in back of the barn dressing the deer and readying the meat. Bella plucked the ducks clean on the porch, saving the down and softer feathers to replenish the bedding. Two of the ducks were roasted for dinner and the other two were smoked and set aside for later. Most of the venison was salt-cured, with a few choice bits smoked for winter. It was filthy and disgusting work, butchering, but the men made the best of it by working together.

After a cursory wash to rid themselves of some of the blood and gore, the men walked around the barn in the direction of the house. They were both stunned to silence by the sight that greeted them from the porch and stopped to stare.

Bella was sitting on a kitchen chair, perched on the very edge of the seat. Leah was lying at her feet while Jasper and Emmett were playing tag in the yard. Bella had the butterchurn between her spread knees and was slowly, but deliberately, raising and lowering the plunger as she watched the boys frolic. The barest hint of ankle was showing on her legs as her skirts were raised to accommodate the churn. The heat of the day and the vigour of the activity caused a sheen of perspiration on her skin. Her hair was loosened, and wisps of it clung to her face and neck. Bella had rolled her sleeves up and over her elbows and released the first couple of buttons of her blouse to help keep cool. The vision was sweet and erotic at the same time and both men reacted in kind. Their breathing stuttered as they watched Bella rhythmically maneuver the long pole, giving it a little twist as it neared the top of the churn and again when her hands were at the base.

The scent of roasting fowl and wood smoke wafted over them and both of their stomachs growled in anticipation. The sight of her, the way she was moving and manipulating the churn brought other hungers, more base hungers, to both men's minds. Edward held his breath at the sight while Carlisle let out a low whistle. Leah's loud, happy bark took them both by surprise, abruptly ending their reverie.

Carlisle turned to Edward and looked him up and down, sizing him as if for the first time.

"Just how did you get so lucky, you bastard? Rachel was never my cup of tea but she did well by you, gave you sons and looked after you. Now you have that beauty fall into your lap. Why you don't spend every moment you can at Bella's feet, I'll never know. You don't even appreciate what you have in her. And you don't seem to care to find out how good life could be with her if you tried. Christ, Edward, you don't even share a bed with your wife. I don't know what it is that you're fucking afraid of or why you won't even suggest the idea of being a real husband to her. If you're not going to do anything with her, then step aside. I'm giving you notice, boy. I said I was looking to settle down and right there, on your porch, is a perfectly good woman. I don't care if she's married to you, I'm going to try for her hand. You don't deserve her anyway."

Carlisle spat and it landed just inches from Edward's boot. He held out his hand and when Edward didn't raise his own, Carlisle grabbed it and forced him to shake.

The war was declared and the battle about to begin.

 **AN: Poor Bella, she finds it so much easier to understand and forgive Emmett rather than Edward. Or maybe that should be Poor Edward. She's stuck in servant mode, not knowing Edward wants to upgrade her to wife.**

 **So Carlisle threw down the gauntlet. Them's some fighting words. Edward is going to have to sharpen his nails for this cat fight.**

 **And I said there would be kissing, I just didn't say which chapter. There is next to none in the movie this story is based on, except the very last scene. I'm not going to make you wait that long. Even I'm not that prudish.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	14. Chapter 14

**For me, November is a month of remembrance but it is also a month of celebration. Two of the wonderful women who help me, teach me, and support me in this story, have birthdays this month. I am so very thankful to them, Beachcomberlc and Vagabonda for everything they do. IpsitaC77 shares my birthday and this story will be long finished by then, I hope, so I'll have to find another way to celebrate her. Maybe a new story?**

 **Chapter 14**

There were no obvious signs of the war between the men. They didn't start hitting each other or calling names, and there were no guns fired, but things were chilly between them. During the dog days of summer, Carlisle had taken to sleeping outside, saying he missed the freedom of the great outdoors, the starry sky above and breakfast cooked over an open flame. He continued to take his evening meal with the rest of the family and Bella still delivered lunches to the fields when she could. It was the only compensation Carlisle would take from his friend.

The tension between the men mostly came to a head at the dinner table. The usual good-natured ribbing and chatter were absent from the meal. A sharper, stinging nature had overtaken their banter, but Bella made no mention of it and the boys were oblivious. Carlisle attempted to distract everyone by being overly jovial at meal times, but Edward's curt manner was not to be swayed. Bella did her best to ignore both of them, not wanting to be included in whatever was amiss. As far as she cared to know, this was their normal way of conducting business; friends for the most part, but with an edge from time to time. Regardless of whatever was happening between the two, she was in no mood to indulge or interfere.

* * *

The morning after the troubles with Carlisle officially began, Edward had risen to find the flowers he had forgotten on the porch set in a bouquet at his place at the table. They were trimmed and tidied with a length of ribbon tied around them, fashioned into a pretty bow. As she poured him some coffee, Bella mentioned she'd found them outside and arranged them for _him_. More precisely, _for him to take to Rachel's grave_. She stressed that Edward was to give them to his _wife_. There was no chance for Edward to argue that he had meant to give them to her, because as soon as Bella plunked his breakfast down in front of him and pointed in the direction of Rachel's grave, she disappeared into the boys' room.

Edward quietly sighed in exasperation as he ran his fingers along one loop of the bow. Bella was always running away from him and not giving him enough time to collect the words he needed to speak his mind. She was like a wild rose, sweet and pretty but as thorny as all get out. He picked up the bouquet and laid it on the counter near where she washed the dishes. She'd find it there when she was done being mad at him. In a calm and controlled voice, as if she were in the room standing next to him, he told her the truth.

"I picked them for you, Bella, honest."

Edward didn't wait for an answer, or to even find out if she had heard him. He grabbed his hat and walked out of the house, his hopes of wooing her dashed for now.

Bella stayed in the boys' room until she could be certain Edward had gone out to the fields. She thought he might have said something, but couldn't be certain over Jasper's chatter.

When she finally braved leaving the room, Bella was surprised and quite irritated to see that the flowers were still there. She didn't know if he was purposely ignoring her request or if he had some other reason for leaving them. Either way, that man did all manner of odd things, so she wouldn't put it past Edward to have moved them and simply forgotten about them. Rather than let the blooms go to waste, Bella arranged them in a wide mouthed jar and set them by the window on the far side of the room. Edward would see them when he came home that night, but they were to Bella's back as she worked, out of her line of sight.

Nothing more was said about them.

* * *

Bella successfully avoided being alone with Edward for the next three days, although they shared at least two meals each of those days in the company of the boys and Carlisle. Bella either pretended he wasn't there or focused all of her attention on the children. If Edward asked her a question, her response was always brief, one or two words at most. She spoke very little to Carlisle as well, saving her attention for Jasper and Emmett.

That Bella was friendlier in general with Carlisle chawed at Edward. Carlisle was always more of a smooth character than he, a better talker and more affable. Edward had always been secretly pleased Rachel found Carlisle so offensive. That meant there was no way for Carlisle to steal her away from him, even if he'd half a mind to do so. But now, Edward could well picture Bella working out her time with him, getting the annulment and then running straight into Carlisle's open arms. The very idea of losing her to Carlisle made Edward feel ill.

The plain fact was, Edward needed Carlisle's help with the farming more than he needed to kick the man off his land and away from Bella. There was too much work to do on his own. Edward couldn't afford to pay a labourer, and it would be years before Emmett was of any real help. They might have been able to scrape by with only the sweat of his brow, but they wouldn't near prosper without Carlisle's help. For the first time, he cursed ever making friends with Carlisle.

* * *

As Edward toiled and tilled the land, he daydreamed about putting holes in the concertina or shaving off that shiny blond hair. Edward tried to think of ways to make Carlisle less attractive to Bella, but came up short, mostly because he realised he had no idea what Bella found attractive in the first place. Without knowing what Bella liked in a man, how could he make Carlisle less attractive or himself more worthy to her? Bella was very hard to read, even when she wasn't avoiding him.

The course of action Edward chose, with infinite wisdom and much thought, was to pretend that there was nothing amiss in front of his family. However, when the two men were alone, all pretense ended. Edward was openly sour and bitter. It soon got to the point where Carlisle refused to work side by side with Edward. Carlisle worked one field, while Edward worked another. The rift between them grew, causing a competition for more than just the eye of the young lady of their mutual desires. It turned into a rivalry to see who would be crowned cock of this particular walk.

Each night at the dinner table, the two compared their day's work as a way of impressing Bella. If Carlisle felled three trees to ready a field, well then, Edward just happened to fell four. If Edward unearthed a ten pound rock that would have hampered plowing, wouldn't you know, Carlisle's boulder was twelve pounds. They argued and bickered across the table, night in and night out, like a pair of bighorn rams butting their heads, fighting for territory. It might have been laughable for some younger males to fight like this over a young lady, as if she were the last piece of cake on the tray, but coming from these two grown men, it was unseemly. Their fighting made mealtimes awkward and often unpalatable for the others at the table.

Edward found himself so enraged he felt it necessary to remind Carlisle whose name was on the deed to the land. Scarcely veiling a threat, he asked when Carlisle planned his next hunting trip, hoping to get rid of the man for at a least few days. Much to Edward's surprise, Carlisle gleefully jumped at the idea.

Instead of celebrating his small victory of some time alone with his wife, Edward watched helplessly as his plan backfired. Cleverly, Carlisle engaged Bella's full attention by enlisting her help in arranging the trip. Tossing a roguish wink to Edward, Carlisle even went so far as to get a list from Bella of her preferences of goods he could bring back. Summer was drawing near its end and everyone's minds had been on harvests, winter stores, and supplies.

Emmett was sore he wasn't allowed to go with Carlisle on this trip. Edward wouldn't have gone for all the gold in Alaska, not when there was the possibility he could have Bella to himself for a time.

Carlisle, as a last parting shot to Edward, swept his hat from his head as he bowed deeply to Bella, like a slick hero from a time gone by. He lifted her hand and delicately kissed her knuckles, never allowing his eyes to leave hers as he pulled her to him so her hand was pressed to his heart before saying goodbye.

Edward wanted to find his shotgun and rid his farm of the varmint, but seethed quietly as he watched Carlisle mount his horse and ride away. Bella laughed and waved Carlisle off and the boys ran after him for a few yards. Edward cast an eye to the only member of the family not excited by the morning's events. Leah had slept through the whole thing.

As Bella passed Edward on the porch to go back into the house, she noticed the sneer on his face at the same time he saw the blush on hers. It was a very uncomfortable moment for both of them. Edward quickly rearranged his face into what he hoped was a winning smile, but she missed it by walking past him. As he was about to go to the barn to continue his day, she called out to him.

"When you have time later, those stitches should come out of your shoulder."

Edward froze for a second, his foot lifted, ready to start down the front steps. He turned instead and poked his head into the house, finding Bella at the stove with her back to him. While he enjoyed the view, Edward wished Bella would turn around and talk to him, face-to-face. It had been a long time since she'd talked to him and he missed it. Bella's remark rolled around in his brain for a delicious moment, bringing back the image of her sitting astride his lap and the memory of how wonderful that felt.

Bella looked over her shoulder at him and continued speaking as if he weren't staring at her bottom. She'd noticed him doing so before, but knew it was only a natural male reaction and not a show of sincere ardour for her on his part. Bella had tried several times to pique Edward's interest by giving her skirts a bit more sway, or leaving her top buttons undone, but obviously he had none for her. She watched him as much as she could and Edward had caught her surreptitious glances several times, but didn't seem to think anything of them.

As far as Bella knew, Edward simply did not see her as a woman; he saw her as a servant and not to be trifled with. Bella felt she had given him ample opportunity and as bold a hint as a pure young lady could in this day and age without compromising her character. Edward just didn't see her like that, so she resigned herself to the fact that it would be a cold couple of years until he granted her the divorce, and she could find a man who did want her. Carlisle wanted her, this she knew, but as long as she was married to Edward, even if it was just a paper marriage, she would never entertain the thought of anything dishonourable. She may no longer be a lady of means, but she still had her morals straight.

It was a great pity, for Edward was handsome and he elicited thoughts and feelings in Bella she had neither imagined nor felt before. While it seemed obvious to her that he could not see her appeal, Edward was also completely oblivious to his own draw. Watching Edward work around the farm set her blood racing, but more endearing to her was seeing him gently care for his children.

Bella's heart broke, night after night, as she imagined Edward holding a baby, her baby, _their_ baby and fussing over it. She could picture him rocking a ginger-haired infant to sleep, singing lullabies, as she imagined he did with Jasper or Emmett. Or him holding a tiny pair of hands, steadying a brave new toddler.

Edward was a good papa to his boys and, with some work, might make a good husband to her. This dream was one that had Bella crying herself to sleep more than a few nights. Try as she might, Bella could picture no other man; she could only imagine Edward in this role. She forced herself from her daydreams to continue speaking to him.

"I've time after lunch if you could come back to the house instead of me bringing it to the field."

Edward said nothing, but nodded, his mouth dry and throat closed. The motions she was making as she stirred whatever it was on the stove made her skirts and bottom sway, and he felt dizzy from following their movement.

He imagined stepping up behind her and feeling that sway against his legs. In his mind, he'd reach down and gather her skirt, bunching it up slowly and raising it high enough to run his hand softly from her silken thigh to the curve of her lush bottom. Bella might lay her head back on his shoulder and moan with need before dropping everything to turn in his arms. She'd link her hands around his neck and kiss him with wild abandon. Edward would pick her up, both hands gripping her supple flesh and walk the two of them to their bed, where she'd not only say ' _You may_ ' but ' _Yes, Edward, oh please_ ' as well.

Edward was halfway through a field of corn before he came to his senses. He was shocked to see Emmett at his side. The child talked almost non-stop; Edward had no idea why he hadn't heard a word Emmett must have said along the way. He cleared his mind and his throat before showing his son the difference between weeds and the newly sprouting beets they had to tend.

As they worked, Edward thought about all the new crops he'd been able to plant late in the year, ones that would be ready for fall harvest. Turnips, cabbages, and beets took up most of the new acres he and Carlisle had cleared in the past few weeks. As much as Carlisle was an ass for horning in on Bella, he was a good farmer and Edward really hoped their friendship would withstand the fight for her.

* * *

A few hours of good labour set Edward's stomach to rumbling, but it wasn't only food that made his belly quiver. The anticipation of having Bella tend to him again, the thrill of being close to her and the possibilities of something more romantic had his insides twisting as well.

When they finished eating, he sent Emmett out to fish while Bella put Jasper down for a nap. Bella brought her medicine kit out while Edward dragged a proper chair out to the porch. He had heard Bella humming to herself as she walked about the house but she stopped suddenly when she reached the porch. Edward had no idea why. He had only been taking off his shirt so she could get at his wound. He ran his hand through his hair to try to work the marks from his hat out of it before he sat and waited for her to begin. She took her time organizing the items necessary for the procedure. Bella cleaned the scissors and the healing wound with witch hazel first, and then whiskey. Edward could barely feel the stitches being removed. He concentrated on the scent coming from Bella's hair as she leaned over his chest, and feeling the heat of her, focused on the light dusting of freckles across her cheeks. If he hadn't concentrated his attentions there, his mind and his hands may have wandered to softer places on her body he didn't have permission to touch. . . yet.

Once she had finished tossing out the soiled thread and having rinsed her hands clean, Bella turned to see Edward still sitting there, staring off into the distance. She called his name quietly so not to startle him, but Edward would not be roused from his reverie.

Wherever his mind had wandered, Edward seemed happy there, for a small smile graced his face and there was a twinkle in his eye Bella had not seen before. She place a hand on Edward's shoulder and waved the other in front of his face to gain his attention.

When he came back to himself, Edward gave her a devastating smile. His lip was quirked up at one corner and his smile was full of contentment and pleasure. Bella had seen that kind of smile before on the faces of the men who exited the saloon where her father last worked. It was a smile of satisfaction and she wonder what Edward had been thinking to warrant such a look on his face. Her heart whispered its hope that it might have been her close presence that made him so content, but the very pit of her stomach churned, and said _'Rachel, he was remembering Rachel'_.

 **AN: Loosely based** **on the RKO Radio Pictures production of the film _Rachel and The Stranger_ , c.1948.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	15. Chapter 15

**I've never claimed to own the rights to Twilight or Rachel and the Stranger. I do claim the right to say Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77 are some of the best ever editors, betas, pre-readers and banner maker I've worked for.**

 **Chapter 15**

Quietly, so as not to disturb Edward's good mood, Bella gathered the waste and supplies from her doctoring and walked back into the house.

Pushing the chair back, Edward finally stood and reached for his shirt. He was feeling as though all was right with the world. He had a good, kind, pretty woman to look after him, and fine, strong strapping boys to keep his legacy going. He had a nearly profitable working farm and a bit of money in the bank, enough to keep his family from starving should the crops fail for a year. Life could not be much better for a man of his kind - a simple, humble farmer.

As he stood on the porch, Edward stretched his arms as wide as he could, working some kinks out of his back while enjoying the view of what he had built. The only thing that could make life better at this moment, he conjectured, was a little affection.

Edward rightly knew it was too soon for, and he hadn't yet earned, a proper romancing of his wife; the kind you'd find under cover of night and behind closed doors. However, he did feel so good, so lordly, that he surmised a kiss was in order.

Edward decided that after he'd finished that day's chores, he'd wait at the railing of the porch for Bella to come back out to ask him to carry in the chair. He knew she'd have to either ask him or get it herself, for someone would not be able to sit for dinner otherwise. He would thank her for her help tending his wound and if that went well, he'd first kiss her on the cheek. If his kiss was well received, Edward figured in a day or two he'd try again, and maybe that time he'd kiss her on the lips.

And Edward did exactly as he planned. Without saying a word, as Bella walked past him, he leaned in and chanced a kiss. It was brief, but sweet, and Edward could feel her eyelashes flutter against his skin as she leaned slightly into him. He had thought of aiming for near the corner of her mouth. He'd hoped that maybe, just maybe, Bella would turn her head and kiss him back fully on the mouth. However, he misjudged the difference in their heights and the speed at which she was moving. Edward ended up kissing Bella high upon her cheekbone, with his nose to her temple.

Being that close to Bella was just as lovely as he had imagined. What he hadn't accounted for was the feel of Bella's soft skin under his lips. Or the quiver from that gentle touch, wending its way down his body, gaining strength as it travelled, curling his toes enough that the knuckles there cracked. He could not have known that the shock from this tender contact would run through each and every hair on his body, commanding each strand to stand at attention.

In his wildest dreams, Edward never considered that the act of simply touching his mouth to Bella's cheek would render him stupid for the remainder of the afternoon, much less well into the evening.

* * *

As a young boy, Edward's mother had made him read and recite not only bible passages, but also some Shakespearean verses. When Edward was fifteen, a travelling acting troupe set up for a week in a nearby town. His father refused to go, calling theatre a useless waste of time. Edward's mother chose this one instance to stand up to her husband, viewing the production as a fleeting mental escape; a chance to see something outside the twenty acres that dominated her life. As a consequence, Edward found himself dragged along by his mother as her unwilling escort.

Edward thought most of the play was stuff and nonsense, although there was some good sword fighting and a really tasty lemonade at intermission. The same romantic babble that had his mother dabbing at her eyes found Edward rolling his own in exasperation. No way, no how could a boy near his age fall in love with a girl as quickly as that fool, Romeo, did for Juliet, and then to die for the love of her was plain stupid.

Now, standing on his porch, listening to the sounds of Bella getting his children ready for bed, watching a crimson sun slide beyond the horizon, Edward finally understood. He could make sense of a love so quick and sharp and wonderful that it cuts you to your very soul and takes a chunk of it away to live within another's heart. He found himself believing in the power of first love and thinking how horrible it would be if it wasn't returned in kind. Edward knew, then and there, that he'd always feel the same for Bella even if she never loved him back. He could live out the rest of his days on that love and go to his grave content for just having loved Bella.

* * *

Other than the boys' chatter, dinner that night had been a very quiet affair. He could hardly eat for the nerves knotting his stomach and he noticed Bella barely touched her meal, either. Bella responded to the boys and talked with them. She kept shooting looks at Edward that he couldn't make heads nor tails of; her face was unreadable to him.

When he'd kissed her cheek, Bella blushed, of course. She took a step back from him, staring at him something fierce for a second, then whirled her skirts as she marched back into the house. Edward was too dumbstruck to even think about trailing after her, much less doing something to follow up, like kiss her again or talk to her.

Much as he was curious to learn her feelings towards him, Edward didn't know how to bring up that topic of conversation out of nowhere. He knew enough of romance to know there needed to be some sort of lead-up to that kind of talk.

He thought about cornering her after dinner, but didn't want to start that kind of conversation with the boys there, all ears. Emmett may have been accepting Bella better, but Edward didn't think the boy was ready to listen to his papa romance her just yet. That was a whole new kettle of fish Edward didn't want to dive into right now.

After the boys were asleep, Bella seemed to purposely keep herself very busy; she was working at some such thing or the other, and rushing around, right up 'til bedtime.

Edward decided to give it some time. Perhaps, if she felt even just a little bit of what he did, she would come to him.

She didn't.

He waited.

Two whole days he waited. For her. For a sign. For any bit of encouragement. Instead, it was life as usual - eat, work, rest.

As Edward tended his fields, he pondered his situation. Two whole days had passed with not even a hint of a sign that his kiss did to Bella what it did to him. He plucked up his courage and fortified a plan. After dinner, after the boys were bedded for the night and before Bella climbed the ladder to the loft, he'd approach her. Edward would lay his heart out to her and damn the consequences.

* * *

Edward was in the barn, sharpening his scythe for the next day, when a crying Emmett ran up to him. Leah was nowhere to be found. Emmett had searched the homestead, her doghouse and the farmhouse, but couldn't find her. Between calling for the dog and crying, the boy's voice was almost gone. Edward laid down his whetstone and tools to help in the search. First, he went to the house for a full lantern and to ask Bella to hold dinner for them.

Bella was quite aware of the situation for she motioned Edward towards her side, away from Jasper and Emmett. She didn't want them to be overheard and risk further frightening the boys. Bella pulled Edward close with her hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear.

"I'm worried Leah will have a hard time of it because she was so frail, young and ill when we found her. I think it's her first litter, too. She may have gone off somewhere to give birth alone. Edward, without help, she and the pups might die. You have to find her. Jasper and I will keep looking around here, but please, Emmett loves that dog so, please find her. Please, bring her home."

Edward looked at the fear in Bella's eyes and vowed to himself to find that dog come hell or high water. Not just for his sons, but for her as well. Bella had never asked Edward for anything and she'd never complained, not once. She hardly ever addressed him by name, and now, with her lips and sweet breath so close to his ear, it was sure as shooting he was going to do what she asked of him.

* * *

The night was fully dark when Edward finally located Leah. The poor dog had hidden herself in an old pile of wood tucked behind the outhouse. It took him a long time to coax her out of her safe haven. Edward called out to Bella and the boys as he rounded the house. He waited on the porch with the panting Leah in his arms and the worried boys by his side as Bella readied a place in the barn. With a calm and bravery he didn't feel at the moment, he explained to Jasper and Emmett that Leah was about to have some puppies and she needed to be safe, alone, and quiet in the barn for a few days.

It was well past their bedtime when the boys were settled, and once they had confirmed Leah was comfortable in her makeshift kennel, they'd finally fallen asleep. Both adults had to promise the boys, damn near swear a blood oath, to keep an eye on Leah during the night. For the first few hours they took turns looking over the labouring dog.

Just after midnight, Bella came into the barn to spell Edward for a while. She had managed a short nap and felt it was his turn to sleep. She'd brought him a cup of hot, sweet tea to help him rest, only to find him already dozing with the dog beside him in the hay. Leah raised her head when Bella entered the stall and whimpered.

The pitiful sound woke Edward with a start. He looked up a Bella with a sheepish expression before he noticed she was dressed in her nightgown and wrapper. Both were made of light, white cotton and they brushed the tops of her naked feet. His sleepy brain travelled to places it had only imagined with Bella once or twice before, like slowly removing her wrapper and pulling her gown up and over her head before exploring the soft flesh underneath. He shook his head to clear those thoughts; he would happily revisit them later when he had time to concentrate on them fully.

Bella was too busy concentrating on Leah to notice Edward's daydreaming or the rosy colour of his ears. She had made a concoction of diced meat leftover from dinner with a bit of oatmeal mixed in, and had formed it into bite-sized pieces for Leah. Bella fed the dog a few spoonfuls of food before bringing her a pan of water. A gentle caress of her head and some soft scratches to her left ear had Leah ceasing her whimpering, for the moment. The terrified look never left the dog's eyes and Bella wished there was something more she could do for the animal.

"Have you ever done this before? Helped with puppy birthing, I mean?"

She nervously picked at the pile of old towels they had brought into the stall as she asked Edward her question. Bella dearly hoped he was well-versed and experienced in the whole situation.

Edward cleared his throat and drank deeply from the mug of tea.

"Horses and cows, well, you kind of have to help with those births; they can go wrong right quick. Pigs don't usually need help. I've never been around for a dog's birthing before. I wouldn't normally, only because you said she might have trouble. Otherwise, I'd leave her to it. Animals, they know what to do by instinct. They don't often need interference from us."

"Oh, well … I'm sorry, you don't have to stay if you don't want. I can look after her."

"No, I promised the boys and I think you're right. I think she'll have a hard time of it. I'd rather be here to help out if she needs it."

"I couldn't bear to leave her to labour alone; she's become such a part of your family. If something were to happen I'm not sure the boys could survive. They'd be devastated, Emmett especially."

Edward hummed a response.

Bella stopped and started a sentence a few times before gathering the courage to finally speak it out loud.

"Did you help your wife when she gave birth to the boys?" She had two differing scenarios in her mind as she asked the question.

One was of Edward and Carlisle, drunk as lords, sitting on the porch as Rachel screamed bloody murder, birthing alone in the bedroom. In the other scene, Edward was lovingly tending to Rachel, wiping her brow and holding her hand as she calmly and serenely brought his child into the world.

In both of these imaginings, Rachel is extremely beautiful, elegant and graceful, with an angelic air about her. Bella knew little about Rachel, save what she envisioned over the last couple of months.

From the few bits of clothing left behind, mostly undergarments, Bella determined that while Rachel was shorter than her in height, she had a much larger bosom than Bella. Overall, Rachel had more womanly curves, and short of padding, there was little Bella could do to emulate her.

Bella came to the obvious conclusion that Edward found little attractive about her form and preferred a more Junoesque woman to bed. The kiss on the cheek he gave her the other day was nice as a thank you, but not really romantic; it was more perfunctory. It only served to fuel the useless desires she had for a man who might never lust after her.

Bella had considered herself to be attractive, even pretty, most of the time. Before her parents' economic downfall, Bella had been sized-up by several well-born gentlemen for marriage. Had she reached a marriageable age while still wealthy, she would have been one of the more sought after young ladies in her season. In later circumstances, her father had to threaten many men with his shotgun to keep them from approaching her in an amorous, but most often lecherous fashion. Bella had accepted her own beauty but didn't let it go to her head. She had long discovered that her beauty didn't serve her in life as well as her skills and adaptable nature.

However, since her marriage to Edward, the few times she had felt even remotely attractive was when Carlisle flirted with her. Bella knew flirting was commonplace with him, she felt he'd flirt with almost any female, regardless of their looks. But Edward. . . Edward made her feel plain and dull. A small, vengeful part of her wanted to show him, to teach him that she was attractive to other men by flirting with Carlisle, but she didn't want Edward to see her as fickle or flighty. Bella wanted to force Rachel from his mind, once and for all, and take her place in his heart. Bella believed theirs must have been a great love for Edward to be so blinded to any other woman, especially a fair and earnest one such as herself. After all, she was here, alive and breathing, not a ghost wife he couldn't forget.

 **AN: Historical story are, by nature, slower paced and more gentle than contemporary pieces. If you are finding the pace too slow for you, I urge you to either practice patience or set this story aside until it is complete. There are thousands of other stories for you to choose and hundreds of writers far more exciting than I am. I'm certain you will find what you seek.**

 **I would also like to remind you that this is a work in progress. There is a lot more story to come. It needs to unfold, layer by layer until it reaches its conclusion.**

 **I'd like to thank to wonderfully supportive people who talked me off a ledge last week. Rock stars, each and every one of them.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Warning - please tread carefully if you are an animal lover and are tender hearted. Perhaps a tissue or two will be needed for this chapter.**

 **Many, many thanks to the loveliest, kindest and most patient ladies, Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77. I think this chapter may have brought the most edits and debates of any in the story so far.**

 **Chapter 16**

Edward surprised Bella by laughing at her question.

"I missed Emmett's birth by a few minutes, but I was here for Jasper's." Edward seemed to lose himself in thought and took to chewing a piece of clean straw.

Bella waited for him to elaborate, but he stayed quiet. Leah began to pant and struggled to get up. Edward barred the door to the stall and they both watched as she paced. Bella spoke softly to the dog with words of encouragement and comfort. The first puppy-filled sac emerged slowly and when it was halfway out, Leah lay back onto the bed to continue her labour. The dog gave a little cry when the puppy was fully delivered and started to clean it right away. The next three came smoothly and in rapid succession. Bella helped Leah with the cleaning by running a cloth over the squirming babies before placing them near the closest teat to nurse.

The puppies grunted, squirmed, and squealed as they ate their first meal. Leah lay still, breathing heavily, and looked exhausted. After a few minutes rest, Bella tried to offer her some food, but the dog refused it. Instead, Leah accepted a small drink of water before turning her attention back to her babies. She nuzzled and nudged them as if to learn everything about them through her nose. All but one of the puppies rolled away from her, drunk from eating and half-asleep. Leah's tail thumped happily on the bed of straw.

Edward went back to the house to check on the boys as Bella watched over the new family. Leah began to growl as Edward's returning footsteps could be heard. Edward slowed his pace as he neared, but her growling did not lessen. With a sudden bolt, she was on her feet and keening. A fifth puppy was emerging, but this time there was a rivulet of blood running down her hind leg. The puppy that had still been at her teat dropped to the ground, unharmed. Edward crouched down to make himself seem less threatening, but Leah's focus wasn't on him. Her growls turned to cries as she tried to push the puppy out.

Edward reached for her, trying to calm her with the aim of helping birth the puppy. Leah, however, snapped at him. Her ears were flat to her head and her lips curled, baring her teeth in warning.

"You try, Bella, she might let you help her."

Leah didn't bite at Bella, but she didn't allow her to help, either. Leah paced back and forth for an entire minute before throwing herself to the ground, twisting almost in half, and grabbing the puppy in her mouth. She tugged and pulled, crying the whole time until it slipped from her body. This puppy was larger than the others and misshapen. She cleaned it a bit, then seemed to lose interest. She lay back down and curled around her babies.

"It's not moving, Edward."

Edward had seen his fair share of dead animals, most farmers had, but this one pained him. He didn't want to touch it, to check for breath or a heartbeat, to confirm what they both knew and break her heart. Edward could do nothing but stare at the unmoving pup for what felt like hours but was really only a few seconds. He watched as Bella, braver than him, picked up the still puppy and tried to revive it. Leah ignored it, tending to her torn flesh to staunch the flow of blood. She pushed another sac out and that puppy wriggled and squirmed with life. After Leah cleaned it, she nosed the puppy into place, where it took its first meal with the rest of the litter. Heaving a great sigh, Leah rested her head on her paws, closing her eyes.

Bella blew across the still puppy's face as she rubbed its tiny body. There was no reaction. She tried again and again, until Edward stopped her, covering her hands with his. She looked up at him with wide teary eyes as he shook his head.

"You can't bring it back, Bella. It was born dead. Even the dog knew. Best we take it away and bury it somewhere." He spoke to her so very gently - as if she'd break at any moment.

Bella sniffed and nodded. Edward found a scrap of cloth leftover from an old feed bag and wrapped the puppy in it. Leah's tail thumped and wagged as he walked around the barn. Bella stayed with the dog and stroked her head in congratulations.

"You did fine, girl. Five babies. You should be proud of yourself. You rest now and I'll bring you a big breakfast in a few hours." Bella pulled more straw around the little family and stood. Her body felt stiff and sore from hours on the hard ground, her mind and heart exhausted from the devastation she'd witnessed.

Edward rounded the corner in time to see her stretch and falter. He grabbed ahold of her waist as she stumbled back a bit. The feel of his hands startled Bella, distracting her from her grief. There was a chill in the night air and Edward's hands were large, warm and strong, easily spanning her waist. The heat from them travelled up her body and forced a soft sigh from her chest.

Bella found his presence to be comforting as he stood behind her, bracing her; almost shielding her with his strength. She turned her head and looked over her shoulder, up at his face.

Edward's eyes were closed and she wondered why men's eyelashes were always so long. The curve of them rested on his cheek and tilted further upwards. She longed to run her finger along his eyelid and see if it was as soft as it looked. But then she'd want to touch his cheek, his nose, his lips and maybe more. She thought of the soft hair behind his ear and at the base of his neck. However, thinking of soft hair led to thinking of the fragile new puppies and her heart broke into pieces.

Bella tried to stifle a sob, but Edward must have felt it for he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close against him. Her back was to his front, both arms around her waist, leaving her hands free. She covered her face with her hands and cried, letting go of her sorrows. She unleashed all her pains - the dead puppy, her frustrations with her husband, and the spectre of Rachel looming over her - all of them. Edward had lowered his head and was resting his chin on her shoulder, softly shushing her. As her sobs ebbed, he began speaking softly against her neck, his lips brushing against her skin.

"When it was nearing time for Emmett to come, I was scared out of my wits. I'd only ever seen farm animals have babies and had no idea what women went through. I didn't have the first idea how to be a father or how to look after a newborn. Rachel never said much about it; we didn't talk a whole lot about anything.

One morning, she had a powerful craving for liquorice and we had none at the house. So I hitched up the horses, not to the cart that I usually take to town, but the larger hay wagon. I made a bed in the back for her and we took off. I felt awful, listening to Rachel bump around in the back of the wagon all the way to town. I drove as carefully as I could and the ride smoothed out the closer we got to town. After we rested a spell outside the store and I helped her stand upright, she said she needed a walk. She wanted to stretch out some and get the blood flowing in her legs. I didn't want to leave her alone in her condition, but she yelled and fussed at me a bit.

So, I went to the store for her while she walked around. Felt stupid about it, too. There were lots of people there waiting before me and about eight different kinds of liquorice to choose from, so I was in the store near an hour before I was done. When I got back, she wasn't in the wagon. She'd walked over to the doctor's office two doors down and his wife had helped her birth Emmett. He came real fast and easy.

Rachel slept for a long time after Emmett was born; for quite a spell at the doctor's office and then again when we got home. So it fell to me to take care of him, with some advice from the doctor's wife. He's still alive and thriving, so I'd say I did a passable job. Although, it was mighty hard work for two weeks or so after he was born, until Rachel was well enough to care for him. She was really sluggish and tired unless Emmett was feeding. She perked right up after the doc came to check on us and gave her some kind of tonic. Emmett sure was a happy, smelly little thing."

Bella listened raptly. This was the most she'd ever heard Edward speak at one time. She could hear equal parts fear, wonder, worry and joy in his voice as he told his story.

"Jasper...now we were home and stuck here at the farm. There was a really bad thunderstorm and the path was too muddy to get through. I was the only help she had. Well, me and Emmett, but he wasn't much use and slept through the worst of it. The rest of the time I gave him little chores to do to keep him busy, like wiping her forehead with a damp cloth. But, with Emmett birthing so easy, neither of us thought it would be a problem once the pains started. It was hours and hours before she said she was ready, and then even more hours pushing and working at it until Jasper showed up. It was hard and messy, but I guess that's why they call it labour. There were a few moments when I thought I'd lose them both, but it worked out just fine in the end."

Bella's tears slowed to a stop and she wiped her eyes with her knuckles. She patted Edward's hands and he removed them from her waist. She turned to face him and noticed that while his eyes weren't tearing up, they were more red than normal. He continued to speak softly to her.

"Leah did real well for her first time. And she's got five little ones to care for now. I think it best we don't tell anyone, especially Emmett, about the other puppy. I'll take care of it before they wake."

Bella was encouraged by the concern Edward had for Emmett's young emotions. The boy tried to act rough and tumble, but he was still a little boy, grieving his mother and trying to make sense of his world. Edward seemed to understand a great deal more about emotion than he projected. Still waters did run deep in this man, and it made her wish he felt something for her more than that of employer to trusted servant.

Bella decided to throw caution to the wind and raised her trembling hands to touch his face, his chest; any part of him she dared. For far too long Bella had wondered what it would be like to kiss Edward, to feel him pressed up against her and to hold him in her arms. The opportunity presented itself and she, not knowing if it would ever come again, embraced it.

Resting one hand on Edward's chest over his heart, Bella reached up and wound the other around the base of his neck. As she lifted herself up on her toes, Bella pulled Edward down so their lips could meet. She left some space between them, just an inch or two, resisting the urge to brazenly crush herself to him.

The kiss she gave him was soft, gentle and brief, but it was enough to embolden a response from Edward.

As soon as Bella's hand touched the back of his neck, he took hold of her, wrapping his hands around her upper arms, tenderly but securely. It was almost as if he wanted to pull her closer, to prevent her from leaving their semi-embrace.

Bella began to pull back from the kiss, but Edward leaned in, refusing to let her lips leave his. He took a half-step forward, closing the slight distance she'd left between them. The brush from his stubble contrasted with his soft, warm lips as he continued to kiss her with much more passion than she'd ever dared hope for.

Edward's response fuelled Bella's own bravery. She felt a tremor of pleasure sweep through her. Edward opened his mouth slightly, the barest taste of the sweetened tea he'd had earlier adding to his flavour. It was a heady combination for both of them and one they would remember always — the pure taste of affection and want.

The kiss would have gone on forever if not for the quiet lowing of the cows interrupting them. It was hours until milking time, but the confused bovines were reacting to people being in their barn. The cows got the horses started, then the pigs chimed in. All were hoping for a midnight snack.

Edward felt a joyous feeling bubble up inside him. He laughed, but still held her as close as he dared. He could feel her laughter as well.

They broke apart and smiled at each other.

Bella let the hand on his chest fall to her side as she slid the other from his neck to cradle his cheek.

"You're a good father, Edward Masen, and a good man, too. I like that about you." Her thumb brushed a bit of straw dust from his cheek and she turned to walk back to the house, pausing to collect the soiled towels she had dropped by the door.

His eyes followed her, his mind reeling and his heart full of joy. He smiled to himself, enjoying watching her bend over and walk away.

Edward gave the animals a handful of feed to tide them over until morning. He extinguished the lanterns and did one last look about. His last chore before catching a bit of sleep was to look in on the little dog family, fast asleep in the extra stall. Four-and-a-half puppies could be seen nestled into their mother. Leah raised her head and looked at him. Her tail thumped quietly as if to say _'all is well'_ and her body relaxed. Whatever fear she'd had of him earlier was long forgotten. He knew if he were to sit with her, she'd lick his hand in apology. Feeling tired, yet giddy, he wished the dog a good night and slowly walked back to the house for a few hours of rest before work started anew.

 **AN: That poor puppy, I felt like such a shitheel writing that but it was necessary to get Edward to comfort Bella.**

 **Thank you to Tarbecca and everyone who voted - A Servant Wife made the list as part of the Fic Dive of the Month over on A Different Forest for Sept/Oct. I'm so very pleased to be included.**

 **Thanks to Mr. Vagabonda for his contribution to this chapter. Thank you to RKO Radio Pictures for the inspiration. And thank goodness for Twilight.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	17. Chapter 17

**I am overjoyed that the owners of Twilight are allowing me to mess with their characters. I am doubly thrilled for being allowed to work with three wonderful ladies, they ask for nothing but give all of themselves for this story. Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77, thank you.**

 **Chapter 17**

The three hours Edward slept were nowhere near enough for a hard-working farmer. However, the delightful phrase spoken to him, ' _You're a good father, Edward Masen, and a good man, too. I like that about you.'_ made him feel so good, he didn't need lots of sleep. It ran around his head and coloured the few dreams he did have. When the rooster woke him, Edward felt fully refreshed and ready to start a new day.

The first whiff of coffee greeted him as he pulled his suspenders up to complete his dressing. The sight that greeted him when he opened the bedroom was heart-stopping. Bella stood at the stove, her back to him, braiding her hair.

Any other morning, she would have completed this task long before coming down from the loft and starting her chores. Since that first morning when she woke late, he hadn't seen her hair loose.

Edward halted, transfixed and fascinated by the sight of her hands working at the back of her head, folding handfuls of hair over, under and through. When she reached a certain point, she grabbed the entire mass of it and drew it over her shoulder, turning her body and continued plaiting. It was the longest thirty seconds of his recent life.

Bella slowed her braiding and reached for the scrap of ribbon she held in her teeth to tie it off. Edward may have made a small noise or something, because she looked over at him and her face broke out in a shy smile. She tied the end in a pretty bow and flung the braid back over her shoulder. There was a quiet, faint thump as it landed against her spine. Or maybe the slight sound came from Edward's heart.

Edward took his place at the table as Bella poured the coffee. He was at a loss for words and didn't want to disturb the sweet mood, so he sat and listened to the sounds of her morning routine. The burble, boil and hiss of cooking, the tink of metal against metal and the soft shuffle of her feet made for a lovely morning chorus.

Quicker than he thought possible, his breakfast was slid in front of him and Bella took her seat at his right. He smiled widely at her before tucking into his meal. Emmett and Jasper began to make noise in their room as Bella was part way through her meal. He watched as she leapt into action at once and started preparing meals for the two boys. Edward knew he had missed a prime opportunity to talk with her and maybe romance her a little while they were alone.

A sleep-rumpled Jasper emerged first, followed by a bright-eyed Emmett. Jasper needed a cuddle, but Emmett sat at his place and peppered his father with questions. Bella sat back down with Jasper in her lap and smiled at Emmett.

"How's Leah? Did she have her puppies? How many puppies? Can I go see them? Can they sleep in our room? When can I go see them? What are their names?"

The excited young boy took a breath, but before he could continue, Edward raised a hand to stop him, laughing.

"After breakfast, you can go see her. She's had five babies. But you can't touch them or play with them yet; do you understand, Emmett? Jasper?"

The boys nodded in unison at their father, heads bobbing loose like marionettes and their untidy, unbrushed hair flopping about. Their eyes were fixed on Edward, solemn and heeding the seriousness of their father's instructions.

"Bella will take you out to them after breakfast and chores. You listen and mind her. She stayed up all night with them; we both did. I'll take care of the cows for you, Bella." Edward waited until they agreed before leaving to start work for the day.

Never have two boys eaten so quickly as Jasper and Emmett did that morning. They hurriedly washed and dressed themselves with no fuss, regard for cleanliness or fashion, and waited patiently — for about one minute.

Rather than be frustrated at having to wait, they launched an animated but serious discussion about the puppies. Not knowing anything about the puppies' gender, colour or breed, the boys bandied about names and talked about the tricks they would teach their pups. Emmett favoured names like Pistol or Bullet, thinking his dogs would be powerful hunters and fast runners. Jasper wanted to call them all Ralph, even the females.

Bella had a difficult time containing her laughter while listening, but succeeded in holding the boys off long enough to prepare a hearty meal for Leah. At the door, she made them pause and listen to her. She held their hands and crouched to their level.

"Leah is a new mother and very nervous. She wants her babies' safety over everything else. She might growl at you and she may snap. It doesn't mean she doesn't like you anymore or that you are no longer friends. It means she needs some time to trust you with the most precious things in her world right now, her puppies. Please keep your voices quiet and move very slowly. Leah is a good mama, but I don't want either of you getting hurt. It would break her heart and mine, as well. Do you understand?"

Emmett looked at her, wide-eyed, and nodded. He was taken by the way Bella talked to him. Even after all his yelling and name-calling, she was still nice to him. She talked to him as if he were a grown-up, not a little kid. He liked that. And she gave him the important job of carrying Leah's breakfast. Jasper said he understood, too, and the trio walked to the barn.

Edward was just finishing up with the cows and watched with pride as his family walked across the yard. His heart swelled as he watched Emmett carefully carry the dog dish, while Bella held onto Jasper's hand. All Edward had ever wanted was coming to life before his eyes — his farm, his children and the regard of the woman he loved.

* * *

Leah thumped her tail on the ground in happiness when she saw Emmett and Jasper, but she remained curled around her sleeping puppies. Emmett placed the food bowl near her and remembered to speak softly to her. Bella held out her hand to Leah, showing the boys how to move around the cautious mother. Leah licked Bella's hand and then Jasper's and finally, Emmett's. The puppy pile wriggled, whimpered and writhed as Leah nudged each one. After each pup had been touched, licked and sniffed, she stood and had a good shake before eating. When one puppy tumbled onto its back and began to cry, Leah left her bowl in an instant to right and calm it.

Bella sat on a pile of hay and settled in to watch the little family. Jasper curled into her, leaning against her legs. After a few moments, Emmett came and rested on Bella's other side, not quite touching her. They watched while Leah finished her breakfast and went back to her nest. She circled her babies twice before arranging herself around them, settling down with a big sigh The puppies immediately began to nurse and fight over the best spots. Leah bathed them, one by one, and maneuvered them into the proper position.

"Leah and the babies will stay in here for a couple of weeks. In a while, she might let you hold them, but you have to listen to what she tells you. If she lays back her ears or shows her teeth, you need to leave her be. Both she and the puppies will need lots of sleep, so we'll only come out here twice a day for her mealtime. When they're steadier on their feet and their eyes have opened, we'll see about moving them to the yard or the house. Pretty soon you'll be playing with them and naming them, but you'll have to be patient until then."

Another puppy rolled away from the litter and cried. Leah had to get up to rescue it. She gently picked it up in her mouth and carried it back to the pack.

"She's a good mama." Jasper piped in. Emmett agreed.

They sat there together for almost half an hour before Bella made to stand.

"We have lots to do today, boys. We can come back after chores and lessons, all right?"

Emmett sat and watched for a moment longer. Bella held her hands out to him to help him up. She gave him an extra tug just as he stood, making him jump a little. It was fun and reminded him of when his papa would swing him when he was little. It made him happy, and he grabbed Bella around the waist in a big hug.

Bella was stunned by his actions, but placed a gentle hand on the back of his head. Emmett hadn't done this before. Jasper joined in by wrapping his arms around Bella's legs, his head tilted up and his chin digging into her thigh.

"Is-bella, you're a good mama, too." Jasper spoke, bringing a prickling feeling to Bella's eyes. With a hint of fear, she looked down at Emmett to gauge his reaction. The mood between the two of them had greatly improved, but she was concerned Jasper's statement would anger Emmett. He turned his head and looked up at her, too.

"You are a good mama. My mama was real good, but she's gone now."

Emmett didn't let go of Bella's waist or break eye contact. Bella smiled and nodded at him. She leaned down and kissed the top of his head.

Bella ushered them out of the barn and slid the door to near-closed, giving the dogs some privacy. She watched as Jasper ran off to play while Emmett walked back to the house. She managed to hold off her tears until she was safely behind the chicken coop and out of sight.

* * *

The next few days passed in a flash. Between work, school, chores and puppies there was little time to be bored, and certainly no cause to be unhappy. They worked together, the four of them, like a well-oiled machine. Jasper decided he no longer needed two naps per day, but rather one longer one after lunch. Emmett went up a reading level and mastered multiplying numbers by two. The corn crop was harvested and Bella was able to cure and grind several bushels for meal; the rest was set aside for animal feed.

Winter planting was completed and the farm was flourishing. Quite a few of Edward's crops were reaped and shipped for sale, more so than any other year. With autumn nearing, the long hot summer days had drifted into cooler nights. Bella worked seemingly non-stop to ready the small family for winter. Warmer shirts, patchwork quilts, knit hats, scarves and mittens piled beside her on the porch. There were bolts of thick flannel and skeins of good wool left unused since last winter, so she had plenty of supplies.

Five piglets were sold, leaving the boys one each from the sow's litter to raise. The bull calf was likewise sold off, but Edward kept the two heifer calves for milking next year. There was a very good chance one of the heifers was sterile as she was the bull calf's twin. The other was more promising for milking, six months older and ready for freshening. The bull calf was far too much of a runt to keep for studding, and Edward had neither the skills nor the heart to butcher him on the farm. The farmer he sold livestock to did the butchering for him and kept them supplied with meat for winter.

Edward's temper rose every time a broker or farmer came to his spread to collect on the goods he had traded with them months before. None of the men were rude or forward, but as each greeted and smiled at the pretty Missus Masen and she responded in kind, Edward found he wanted the transactions completed as quickly as possible.

Since that night in the barn, there were now long looks and small smiles exchanged between the two as often as propriety allowed. The brush of Edward's arm in passing, a lingering press of Bella's fingers when an opportunity arose, and now, a daily kiss on the cheek after breakfast. Tender gestures of a more romantic nature signaled a couple carefully negotiating a change in their relationship. Neither was ready for grand declarations or more serious intimacies, but they were drawing closer to each other with every passing hour.

* * *

Carlisle ambled back to the homestead four days later than he said he'd be, filthier than the first time Bella met him. As he slid from his horse, the animal turned and tried to bite him on the shoulder. He had borrowed an old cart from a nearby farmer and had it almost overflowing with the body of a wild boar. Tucked well underneath it were several ducks and a huge tom turkey. The trapper was brimming with pride at the success of his hunt.

Even shared with Edward and his family, there was enough meat to dry to ensure a comfortable winter for himself. If he managed to find himself a wife, all the better. She could make use of the provisions he had stocked up; a saddlebag full of jerky and another of hard tack. If he managed to make Bella his wife, life would be all the sweeter for him. Edward would have all the stores of jars and cans she'd already put up, so he and his boys would fare just fine over the winter.

Carlisle had trapped three boars during this hunting trip. He figured the cash from selling two of them should be enough to pay off Bella's debt and free her to marry him. Carlisle wouldn't mind, not one bit, living in sin with her until the annulment or divorce was legal. And he knew he had enough charm to win her over from Steady Eddie. Carlisle was already half in love with her and knew Bella liked him too — why, all the ladies did.

Shit, it could take Edward years to get the gumption to make a real wife out of her.

 **AN: You astound me, dear reader. I full expected to be roasted over the coals last chapter for that poor puppy. I expected voodoo dolls and foul names. I received understanding and sympathy.**

 **This story is loosely based on the film, _Rachel and The Stranger,_ RKO Radio Pictures c. 1948.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	18. Chapter 18

**This chapter was a bear to write and edit. I would not have survived with out Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc, and IpsitaC77. I owe them more than thanks.**

 **Chapter 18**

The men spent the rest of the day hard in labour and out of doors.

Their first task was to dig a fire pit big enough for the turkey to roast, as the oven in the house was far too small for the tom. A roaring fire was built on a bed of flat stones, using a couple of very thick logs from a felled apple tree. Then they turned their attention to butchering the boar. Edward gritted his teeth as he was forced to listen to more of Carlisle's boastful tales of this latest hunt and his triumphant kills.

By the time the fire in the pit had burned down to glowing hot embers and heated rocks, Bella had the turkey stuffed and prepared. The larger tail and wing feathers were removed, but the rest of the feathers were left intact to act as insulation during the cooking process. Branches of rosemary and thyme topped half of the coals and the turkey was carefully lowered into the pit. A layer of wet straw was added over the bird, followed by a covering of the rest of the embers to cook it. The entire pit was then topped with a thick layer of dirt. By its sheer size, the bird would take most of the evening to cook in the ground.

The ducks were prepared and a hearty stew made for that night's dinner with plenty left over for canning. The turkey would be dug up just before bedtime and stored in the coldest part of the springhouse. In the morning, the scorched feathers would be removed and the meat turned into pies for later consumption. The boar meat was divided up to be smoked, salted, or pickled.

* * *

Carlisle had done a great deal of thinking while on his hunting trip. He was rather pleased with himself, for he had come up with several grand ideas in regard to his future. None of which he'd intended to share with Edward, as most of them included wooing Bella away from his friend and bedding her. Carlisle figured it'd be difficult to ride off into the sunset with Bella and a load of Edward's buckshot in his behind, so for once, he held his tongue.

The trapper was quite certain he could offer Bella more of a life than what she had now with Edward, even if it meant they had to start from scratch with their own farm. Their life together would be much more exciting, starting with a very active marriage bed — preferably before the marriage actually happened.

Carlisle's plan was to first appeal to Bella's sense of adventure, reminding her of the nomadic lifestyle she had previously enjoyed with her father, and a promise of the same sort of unfettered existence.

His next move would be to make her laugh with his quick wit and pure charm. It was his experience that ladies liked men they could laugh with, and sometimes laugh at.

Of course, he'd flatter Bella profusely, for what woman didn't loved being fawned over? Goodness knows Steady Eddie wasn't free with the compliments; Carlisle had not heard one single honeyed word being offered in her direction since he began staying with them.

As his last, best resort, he'd kiss Bella and show her some good romancing. Many gals liked the way Carlisle kissed them — they'd flutter, fuss and swoon and, eventually, melt into his arms. His kisses always did the trick in the past, so Carlisle had no reason to think that the lovely Bella wouldn't respond in kind to his font of kissing expertise.

The only real concern Carlisle had was getting Missus Masen by herself to plead his case.

* * *

Carlisle's hunt was the main focus of the entire evening. The boys sat stock-still, enthralled by his tales of derring-do and bravery. By his telling, Carlisle was near death several times over the course of his most recent hunting trip. Emmett mostly, but Jasper to a lesser extent, gasped in all the right places and shouted in awe when Carlisle spoke of slaying the beast, or rather the boar. Carlisle did everything he could to keep himself as the main topic of conversation as he warily watched for signs of a deepening affection between Bella and Edward.

While he was away, Carlisle had worried that things between the two of them would progress to the point where he would not be able to win Bella's affections. Surreptitiously snooping, he could see through Edward's open bedroom door that there were still no traces of Bella in there, and the curtain to the loft was still closed.

Carlisle half-expected to return to a victorious Edward, flaunting his winning of Bella — Carlisle certainly would have rubbed it in if he had won the lady's hand. Not that he'd be vulgar about it, but he would surely stake his claim by holding Bella on his lap, or maybe kissing her as she passed by, or even call her some silly endearment within earshot of his rival, Edward. He was happy to find them in much the same state he had left them, floundering.

Carlisle went to bed under the stars that night, more than content that he still had a good chance with the pretty brunette.

* * *

The following morning found Bella having a veritable day from hell — everything that could go wrong went wrong.

She hadn't slept well the night before and the rooster took it upon himself to crow early. Then she stumbled climbing down the ladder, banging her knee, leaving her with a large bruise. Next, Emmett was in a temper and, while the boy was much kinder to Bella than in the past, he was sullen and short with her today. What really spiked her foul mood and pained her heart was the lack of any kind of intimacy from Edward.

Any progress she felt had been made with her husband seemed to have been set aside with Carlisle's return. Absent were the sweet smiles that made her giddy; gone were the subtle looks and sly touches. It was as if Carlisle's return hampered Edward and they were back to the uncomfortable middle part of their life together. She refused to entertain the idea that her marriage would stay this way; there _had_ to be improvement. Bella was frustrated but determined — Carlisle _had_ to go. The barely fledgeling stirrings of romance between Bella and Edward had taken a back burner to Carlisle and his accounting of his escapades. The entire situation left Bella nothing short of furious.

In truth, Bella had begun to fear that Carlisle would never leave. For now, he was out from underfoot and fixing a fence at the end of Edward's property, and blessedly gone for most of the day. Even a bachelor like Carlisle, who was used to fending for himself, added to her workload. His return meant another mouth to feed, an extra set of feet tracking dirt into the house and endless laundry. Bella was growing tired of having two men to care for and none to care for her.

As she worked on making turkey pies, Bella likened her life to the aspic she was preparing. Not quite solid, not liquid, but fixed in a constant state of suspension. She had none of the benefits of being a wife, but more privileges than a servant.

While she worked on the mindless task, her eyes wandered and fell on Rachel's square piano. It hadn't been played in weeks. Bella felt very much like that neglected piece of furniture in the corner. Edward played with her like an instrument — he stroked her strings, made her sing and let her go while she was still vibrating. She longed for the day they'd complete the entire movement.

Bella finished with the last of the pies and turned her attention to the duck stew she had been canning. Four full quart jars were happily bubbling away on the stove. Bella could take enormous pride in the fact that whatever happened between her and Edward — if they continued in this state of suspension or truly became a married couple — they would eat well this winter. If nothing else, Bella knew she was an efficient housekeeper.

As she took the steaming jars out of the water, one of them shattered. Her apron was covered in the thick, greasy stew; bits of carrot and potato clung to her cheek and a flying shard of glass cut her hand. It was just the tip of the iceberg for Bella. She wanted nothing more than to retire to her bed, cry her feelings away and sleep for a few hours. Or perhaps stamp her feet like a prissy socialite and throw a tantrum. Most of all, Bella wanted Edward to take her in his arms again and hold her until her bad day resolved.

None of those things would happen today. Instead, Bella staunched the flow of blood from her hand with a clean cloth. She changed her apron, washed her face and set about cleaning up the mess. The remaining three jars cooled on the table as the pies baked and Bella finished her morning chores. Her last chore of the morning was to make and bring a small meal to Leah.

Now that the days were shorter, Edward spent his time working more in the farmyard and barn. The outer fields had been put to bed for the winter, only the closest few still yielding crops. Nonetheless, there was still plenty of work to keep everyone busy.

In addition to their own chores, Emmett and Jasper spent mornings with their father, learning how to manage a farm. The boys delighted in having more time with him and less time with sums, geography and history. Edward cherished being able to share his knowledge with his boys and earn a special closeness with them.

With life revolving nearer the homestead, there was no need for Bella to traipse out to the fields with her basket of food every day. Lunch was now served in the house, and would be her next task after the little canine family in the barn was fed. Bella cleaned her face, checked her hair, and picked up the bowl for Leah.

Jasper's squeals of delight could be heard well before reaching the barn. The puppies' eyes still hadn't opened but they wriggled about, tumbling over one another in a furry, grunting mass. Every once in a while one would leave the pile and stumble over to where Jasper and Emmett sat quietly watching. It was a highlight of their day.

As Bella approached the stall, she could hear Emmett and Edward speaking.

"Boys, it's almost time for lunch. Bella should be here with Leah's food soon, so say your goodbyes."

"Papa? Do you think the puppies call Leah _Mama_?"

"I don't know. I think they have a special noise that is just to get her attention, like a person would say a word. Why?"

"Jasper told Bella she was a good mama, like Leah, and I kind of think so, too. Do you think we should start calling her _Mama_ like we did with our mama?"

There was a heavy, thick silence. One that could either melt the jelly of the suspension between them or solidify it into stone. Bella waited for Edward's answer, stunned into silence.

"I think Bella takes care of all of us very well, but I don't think you should call her _Mama_. Rachel was your mama."

The rush of air from her lungs and the sudden pounding of her heart deafened Bella to anything else Edward may have said. Without a word, she entered the stall and gave Leah her meal. She picked Jasper up and carried him into the house. If Edward spoke to her, she didn't hear it over the sound of her blood rushing in her ears.

Only after Jasper was washed and seated with his lunch in front of him, did Bella realize that Edward and Emmett were at the table as well. Emmett, with his eyes downcast and his face unreadable, was staring at his empty plate. She felt Edward's eyes as they followed her every movement. She swiftly presented their meals and began cleaning the kitchen rather than sit and join them for lunch.

Edward swallowed hard. Bella must have overheard him at the worst possible moment. There was that gasp she had made when he was talking to the boys that interrupted what he was saying to them. When he thought back to the conversation, he hadn't meant it to come out that way. He was horrified that she stopped by right at that time when he had so much more he wanted to say. By the tense set of her shoulders and the way she was acting, Edward could tell that she had taken his words the wrong way.

Edward realized he would have to wait until the boys were asleep and Carlisle had gone to his campsite for the night before offering Bella an explanation. First off, Bella looked far too mad to listen to him right now. Besides, he didn't want the boys there to witness because, with any luck, he'd be kissing her after he said his piece. Edward wanted to make certain his words were right; it was too important a conversation to get wrong this time. He knew it had to be fixed straight in his head before he tried to get it out of his mouth. If that went well, he could perhaps make the suggestion to Bella that she start sleeping in his bed, if she was so inclined.

With her back to him, Bella scrubbed furiously at the stew pot. She thought if she could concentrate on the stuck-on food, she might be able to ignore the way her heart was breaking. Her mind was running through every instance of how she had been compared with Rachel; each remark a biting little stab to her soul. It was always one step forward, two steps back with Edward. She was completely done in and used up to her last nerve.

The kitchen was spotless long before the others finished eating. When Jasper called her name and asked her to sit, Bella did. She listened to him as he talked of the puppies and Leah, what he did that morning, and how yummy his meal was. When he was done, she washed his face and hands, then gathered the dishes. She finally spoke directly to Edward as he reached the door, his hat in his hand.

"Could you keep the boys with you this afternoon?" Her voice was barely above a whisper and tightly controlled.

"Sure, I reckon."

"Thank you, sir." She turned from the sink to face him.

Edward felt his lunch threaten to reappear. They were back to _sir_. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Is everything alright, Bella? I mean, are you mad at me or is there anything I can do…?" He trailed off impotently.

"No thank you, Mr. Masen. It's just I've worked for you for quite a while now and I've haven't had any time to myself. I'd like to take the afternoon, if I may."

"Well, sure. What are you going to do with yourself?" Edward desperately wanted to engage her in conversation, perhaps change her bad feelings towards him. He hoped he'd get a chance to say something nice to her to smooth her ruffled feathers some.

"Oh, I thought I'd read. And I have some personal washing, delicate items and such, that I might take down to the stream. I'm actually quite good at entertaining myself. Dinner is fixed and I'll be back in time to serve it." All the while Bella spoke, her eyes never raised above the top button of Edward's shirt. She refused to look him in the eye. She was eerily calm on the outside, but inside, she was seething.

"I'm certain Rachel, I mean _Missus_ _Masen_ , never required a bit of contemplative respite from her work, sublime as I'm certain it was. However, I feel I am in need of some solitude to reorganise my thoughts. Surely you understand, sir. In order to fulfill my duties to the best of my abilities, and so on."

"I don't quite know what it is you're saying with those big words, Bella, but if you need some time, then take it. It's no matter to me."

Edward tried to be encouraging but the way she was talking so highfalutin' and how she was saying it with no feeling in her voice confused him. He didn't think she was asking for what she really wanted; his gut was telling him something else was very wrong here. He sensed she was fixing to get away from him and Edward was afraid she might not return, or maybe he'd lost any chance he had with her. Bella'd never asked him for anything for herself in the whole time she had lived with them. She'd always done what he asked of her, working from sun up to sundown, with no complaints.

"I do realise that my efforts here pale in comparison with Missus Masen. Why, you've told me as much time and again. When I return, I shall endeavour to emulate her example of domestic virtue."

With those words, Bella dashed up the ladder only to return a moment later with a cloth bag slung over her shoulder and a thin book in her hand. In the kitchen, she cut a small sliver of soap from the cake set aside for washing and grabbed an apple. At the door, she turned to look at Edward's top shirt button again and bobbed a curtsey to him.

* * *

Carlisle, having finished with his morning's work, was leading his horse from the barn to groom in the sunlight. He looked up when the screened door on the house slammed and smiled when Bella charged across his path. He tipped an imaginary hat to her, charm oozing from his every pore. Bella didn't smile at his antics; in fact, the look she shot him burned.

"Where are you off to on this fine afternoon?" He kept the smile on his face even as she glowered back at him. She halted and looked over her shoulder at the house. Carlisle could see Edward standing in the doorway with Jasper in his arms, both of them watching and looking stunned.

"Why, even servants get time off now and then, don't they?" Bella said loud enough for both men to hear before continuing on her way.

 **AN:** **This story is loosely based on the film, _Rachel and The Stranger,_ RKO Radio Pictures c. 1948.**

 **I'm still so delighted by you, dear reader. Thank you for reading.**


	19. Chapter 19

**I have three kind, generous women who help me create, polish and publish this story. Without Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77 my life would be miserable. As it is, my life is fucking fantastic. I'm still cancer free two years after treatments, I donate regularly to charity, I'm raising a wonderful teenage boy, I have a hot spouse of 24 years and a house full of cats. And this story has surpassed all of my others for reviews.**

 **Chapter 19**

Carlisle's confusion at the entire situation was clearly written on his face. His inner delight at the obvious problems between the two was better hidden, for here was his opportunity to win Bella, presented on a silver platter.

"What did you do now, Edward? She's madder than a wet hen and it seems to be your fault, again." Carlisle tethered his horse and stroked its nose.

"Aw heck. She heard me talking to the boys about calling her _Mama_. I didn't say it right and she's angry with me. I can't say anything right when I'm around her. It's like my mouth and my brain are warring with each other, and neither of them is winning."

"Pretty girls have been making men stupid since time began, Edward. You're no exception to that fact." Carlisle reveled in being able to school his friend in the ways of ladies.

Edward kicked at a bit of dirt on the porch and said nothing. Carlisle was always so sure of himself, so smooth and confident around womenfolk. Edward had none of that kind of swagger or know-how.

Pastimes, when he'd tried to flirt with women, they'd just stare at him and giggle. Even when he was saying stuff that wasn't funny, they'd get this dewy look on their faces and bat their eyelashes, not paying a whit of attention to a word he said. Edward came to the conclusion that they were joshing him and it'd be best just to spare them his awkward banter.

"Tell you what," Carlisle broke through Edward's cud-chewing, "I'll go talk with Bella. Find out what's the matter. You stay here with the boys and think about how to apologize to her."

"Apologize? Bella was the one eavesdropping. She interrupted my talk with the boys before I could make my point to them. I don't think I need to apologize as much as set her right about the stuff I said that made her mad. Bella needs to hear the parts she missed by getting sore and stomping off. I had more to say on the whole idea, and it might have made her happy if she'd just stayed-put and listened."

"Edward, in my experience, it's always best to start with an apology. Whether you think you've done something or not, the ladies like to hear some flowery words, even if you don't really mean them. Are you going after her?" Carlisle was ready to outrun him if Edward was going to chase her.

"Do you think she'll listen to me when I'm the one who set her off? Plus, I've got the boys to tend to. Bella asked me to look after them. Jasper screams when I try to put him down. He's angry with me for all the fighting and yelling and he's scared. I can't bring my kids with me to find her — Bella and I need to have a grown-up talk. And besides, she asked for some time alone. Maybe she just needs a spell to herself to think things over. When she's calmer, we'll talk, but for now I'm going to honour her request."

"Why don't you let me smooth her feathers a bit and then you can give it a try." Carlisle couldn't hide the sly grin on his face. He could have offered to mind Jasper, but if Edward didn't think of asking, he wasn't going to tender the favour.

"Now, hold up a minute, here. You're going to make a play for her, aren't you?"

Carlisle held up his hand to stop Edward's objections.

"Well, it's about time I get my shot at Bella. I've given you many an opportunity to win her, Edward, and you've loused it up every time. I'm not passing up a chance to stake my claim."

Fuming, Edward took a step off the porch to go after Carlisle but Jasper began to wail, tucking his head into Edward's neck.

With a wink and a smile to Edward, Carlisle took off after Bella. He hoped she was angry enough at Edward to seriously consider his proposal. He'd make his play for her and let her decide which way to go.

As he moseyed off in the direction he thought Bella might have taken, Carlisle took a moment to take inventory. He sniffed under his arms and found himself to be not overly ripe. He'd shaved some days before so he knew his beard wasn't bad. He licked him palm and smoothed it over his hair a few times to make it lay flat.

Carlisle Cullen was primed and ready to go courting. There was no way Bella Masen could possibly resist him.

* * *

Carlisle found Bella sitting by the water on a large flat rock, her boots and stockings left in a pile a few feet away beside her bag of laundry. She had removed her blouse and pulled her skirt up and over her knees. He could just make out the beginnings of a sizeable bruise on one of her knees, but the blemish did nothing to deter from the glorious sight — long shapely calves and smooth expanses of creamy skin. Her bare feet were stretched out in front of her as she leaned back on her hands, eyes closed and face lifted to the sun. It had been far too long since he'd seen a woman in a state of undress. Carlisle had to stop and calm himself before approaching her.

As he watched Bella, he noticed there were no tear tracks on her face. Well, no wetness that he could see from his viewpoint, plus the skin around her eyes wasn't red. Carlisle took that to mean she hadn't been sitting there weeping over Edward, but was just basking in the sun.

Her hair was usually coiled into a braided bun at the back of her head, with the small white ribbon bow at the base. Bella had unwound the coil and let it hang loose, so a good foot of the braid now rested behind her on the rock. She looked so relaxed, Carlisle almost hated to disturb her . . . almost.

Bella's chemise was an off-the-shoulder, ball gown style and she wore a thinly-strapped camisole underneath. The effect of the two different styles was very becoming and, for a second time, Carlisle had to pause for a few moments. He had, in his younger years, made a personal study of women's underpinnings for his own enjoyment. Bella looked absolutely lovely in hers — simple lines, no lace, ribbons or bows. Fashioned from sturdy cotton, not fussy linen or muslin, Carlisle thought Bella's undergarments sensible yet alluring, much like the woman who was wearing them.

Carlisle backed up several feet and began whistling quietly to warn Bella of his approach. She turned her head toward him but made no effort to redress or scramble to cover herself. Carlisle appreciated that. She wasn't shy or nervous around him. It was a good sign for his purpose.

Bella squinted in the sunlight and sighed heavily when she saw who was disturbing her peace. As Carlisle neared, she smiled slightly in an effort to be friendly, but hopefully not too encouraging. She really did want time to herself, but since Carlisle wasn't the main cause of her foul mood, Bella was inclined to grant him some minor leeway.

"It's odd, you know, that was Rachel's favourite spot, too. She'd spend a lot of time just sitting on that rock, thinking deep thoughts or some such folly. I'm not sure why or what she'd mull over, but I'm sure it wasn't about the farm here or Edward." Carlisle reminisced.

Bella sat up, clapping her hands together to rid them of dirt.

"Now, don't go getting your back up. I can well imagine how much you enjoy being compared to Edward's late wife."

"Theirs must have been a true love — one hard to let go of. It's not my place to say anything, really. After all, I'm just a servant to him." Bella arranged her skirts to cover her knees and fiddled with the hem. She waited for Carlisle to confirm her theory.

"Rachel didn't love anybody but Rachel, and Edward was a blind fool. But I saw through her and she didn't like that one bit. Why, you're her opposite in every way possible, and Edward can't even see that — he's still a blind fool.

Carlisle sat on the rock, leaving a couple of feet between them. He wanted to ease into the conversation and not rush it, savouring the sweet anticipation that accompanied this seduction. He reached down and pulled off his boots, one by one, then his left sock. His right sock had two holes, one at the heel and another at the big toe. He wriggled his toes before pulling the sock off and laying the pair beside him. He made a contented sound when his feet hit the water.

"I could mend those for you." Bella motioned in the general area of Carlisle's feet, indicating his socks.

"Oh no, you have too much work with Edward and the boys. I'm self-sufficient enough to do them eventually. But it's very kind of you to offer."

"You're welcome." Bella debated leaning back on her hands again and pretending he wasn't beside her, but she didn't want to be taken for rude, even by this lothario.

Bella was tired, so absolutely tired of being sweet and kind and self-sacrificing; so much of her life had been lived in deference to others. Bella wanted, just once in her life, to speak her true mind and say what she felt and let the consequences be damned.

So many of Bella's dreams and wants had been laid to waste while she could only watch, helplessly. Her future had been stolen by the greed and ambitions of various men, some she'd never met like bankers, lawyers, grandfathers, and sadly, the one person she had trusted most, her father.

Carlisle could see she had wandered off into her own thoughts. He quickly brought her attention back to him, where it belonged.

"Another way you're different from Rachel is that you're nice to me. I think, given the chance, you could come to love me, Bella. Edward's not being a husband to you, not that I think he knows how to be one anyway, but I could be. Why don't you leave him?" Carlisle paused to gauge her reaction to his proposal.

When she had none, he continued. "Why, I'd marry you in a heartbeat. We could buy a small plot and start our own farm, you and I. I've been thinking of settling down and you're just the kind of woman I need." Carlisle looked at her with hope and lust in his eyes.

Bella couldn't tell how serious he was being, or if this was all just a joke to him.

"I'm already married, Mr. Cullen." Her response was frosty.

"Are you? Really? I know you don't even share a bed with Steady Eddie. I would have had you in my bed months ago — as soon as possible after the wedding ceremony, in fact. I'd try to seduce you here on this rock if I thought you'd be willing."

Carlisle's vulgar and lewd comments echoed in Bella's head. Her choice, her wants would hold no consideration for him. No doubt in his mind he had her already half undressed, panting and waiting for his use. As frustrating as life was with Edward, he didn't push her for marital relations as was his right. A lesser man would have, treating her as a servant during the day and a whore for his servicing at night.

"So, you think I should choose you over him, really? Because I'm nicer to you? What of my feelings? My wants and dreams? What would I get from this arrangement?" Bella was inches away from pushing Carlisle into the water to see if he'd float or flounder. She steadied her nervous anger by counting the stitches per inch of her petticoat and comparing that to her skirt.

"Well, we'd have to live rough for a while until we could build a cabin. It might be cold outside but we'd keep each other warm." He shot her a lascivious glance. "But in a few years, I'd have a working farm and some money put aside. Think of the adventures we'd have starting fresh and building our own place."

"Would you still go off hunting from time to time?" Bella well knew the answer. The trapper would escape to the woods as often as he could — there was too much wanderlust in him to contain him. Carlisle would never be content with simple farming and homesteading.

"Of course, a man's gotta provide and hunting's good sport, too. I'd go whenever I want. I need the freedom of going out in the wild, from time to time, as you say."

"Let me, before I decide my course, sum up. You're offering me a chance at frostbite and famine, abandonment and abject poverty if I choose you."

"Well, now, the way you've put things, I don't know about all that. You do get me as a husband, that's a good thing, right? I'd be better for you than Eddie. You'd learn to love me, straight out."

"Edward may have his faults, for certain; however, do you know what else he has?" Bella clenched her hands into fists, holding tight to the hem of her skirts.

Carlisle's ' _No'_ came out sullen and petulant, more childlike in tone than that of a grown man of thirty-three years. He had expected her to eagerly jump at his offer, not refuse it.

"Integrity — integrity and honesty. Edward told me from the start what to expect from him and that's what he gave, no more and no less. He took me from back-breaking labour at the laundry, gave me a home to run, children to care for, food in my stomach and a proper bed to sleep in. Edward gave me safety and truth." Bella scrambled to her feet. "You have no loyalty or honour to proposition a married women, even one who is married for convenience. Why would I run away with a snake in the grass like you?"

Carlisle, stood as well. He was ready to plead his case further, but thought maybe he could convince her better with a good kiss. He'd skip straight over his plans to make her laugh and lavish her with his charm. His first attempt was failing so badly, Carlisle realized he needed to go in for the kill straight away and plant a good one on her.

Bella gathered some of her things and turned to face Carlisle.

"You're an ass, not only to me but to the man who has been a good friend to you for years. You push him and bully him, making him look the fool to your hero, but I think it's the other way around. Maybe I have something in common with Rachel after all. She, too, was smart enough to see through your act, Mr. Cullen."

Carlisle reached for her, aiming to kiss some sense into her, but Bella brushed past him. He was standing far too close to the edge of the rock and he stumbled backward, falling into the water.

Bella didn't stop to help, nor did she care about the water that splashed up her skirt. Without looking back at the cad thrashing about in the shallow water, she picked her way across the rocks downstream to another good flat rock. She dried her feet and legs as best she could before pulling her stockings on again.

Carlisle's words kept running through her mind. She thought of different, better things she could have said back to him — powerful curse words, more biting retorts and stinging replies. But as she rehashed the encounter, Bella came to realize the truth of what she'd said to him about Edward. Edward _did_ give her honesty. He'd always been honest with her; she was the one who changed the relationship by falling for him. She couldn't blame Edward for not falling just as hard for her when she hadn't let him know her true feelings.

When she had hinted at changing the status quo by kissing him, Edward had been receptive and respectful, but hesitant, shy — almost like a boy with his first crush. Perhaps, if she were to lay all her cards out for Edward and tell him exactly what she wanted and why, they could stop this dance around each other.

Tired, Bella slowly walked back to where she had been resting to sort out her clothes. Her laundry would have to wait for another day. Carlisle had left and there was only a wet rock, topped with perhaps a bit of slime, to show he'd been there. She pictured him dripping and slithering his way back to the farm, like some giant invertebrate. At once, she worried what he might say to Edward, knowing Carlisle would refashion the story of their conversation and his sodden state to his benefit.

Bella grabbed her laundry bag and rushed off to secure her husband before the trapper could let loose with his forked tongue.

 **AN: For those who were, politely, asking the length of this story, I estimate around 28 to 30 chapters. If you are impatient, come back next month or wait until it is marked complete. I release you from your bonds of being forced to endure anticipation. Go, fly, and be free.**

 **This story is loosely based on the film, _Rachel and The Stranger,_ RKO Radio Pictures c. 1948.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	20. Chapter 20

**I would be lost without Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc, and IpsitaC77.**

 **Chapter 20**

Carlisle's clothes were still dripping with creek water when he returned to the homestead. From the porch, Edward watched while he rocked a sleepy Jasper. He had a hell of a time stifling his laughter at the sight of his soggy friend.

The trapper was still quite wet when Edward returned from putting Jasper down for a nap. With a bravado he'd never shown or felt before, Edward strode across the yard to speak with Carlisle.

"You either decided to swim with your clothes on or your talk with Bella didn't go well, I gather."

"She needs a bit more convincing, to be sure. But I'm not giving up hope." Carlisle untucked his shirt and began to wring some of the water out of the tail.

"No, I've given you your chance. I'm going to ask that you respect the fact that Bella is my wife and leave her be."

"Now, when have you treated Bella like she was your wife, Edward? When you made her sleep upstairs?" Carlisle poked a finger at Edward, jabbing him in the sternum. "When you let Emmett treat her nasty for weeks before you did anything about it?"

Carlisle took a step closer to Edward so that they were just a foot apart.

"Were you treating Bella like your wife when you didn't even think to ask her to sit at your table? She's good enough to cook for you, clean, mend and teach your boys, but not enough to treat like a real wife?"

Carlisle words grew louder and louder, corresponding with Edward's rising temper. Carlisle reached out his finger again, this time poking Edward hard in the chest. Edward hissed, but still said nothing.

"You were nothing but a prized bull to your last wife; just a stud to give her a couple of children. I'll wager you can't even get up for your new wife — a woman made of far better stuff than that hag you got in the mail. I can understand not being able to harden for Rachel, there wasn't anything about her to get a man's blood flowing; but Bella, a woman that fetching, that delectable could make a dead man..."

Edward balled up his fist and let it fly. He nailed Carlisle right across the jaw, causing the trapper to stumble backward two steps. Carlisle rubbed his chin but didn't stop talking.

"I don't care if you hit me, Edward. I'm still going to take Bella from you, mark my words."

"Bella's _my wife_."

"No, Edward, Bella's _your servant_. You still treat her like she's your goddamned maid."

Like an angry picced bull in the arena, Carlisle charged at his friend. Edward staggered backward and to the side, forcing Carlisle to stumble forward when his lunge missed its mark. The trapper managed to brace himself with one hand as he landed, not completely losing his footing until Edward came up behind him and booted him in the rear. Carlisle sprawled forward, his mouth full of dust and curses. He leapt to his feet and wheeled around to face Edward.

Edward had his hands clenched into fists at his side. He wasn't going to give Bella up for anything and, for the first time in their long friendship, he wanted to see Carlisle bloodied.

"You ain't got the gumption to be a real husband to her, do you?" Carlisle took another swing and hit Edward in the shoulder right where his stitches had been. Edward doubled over in pain.

"Or did your pecker die with Rachel? I know it was small to begin with, so maybe it just shrivelled up and withered away. Come on, hit me. Hit me like a real man," Carlisle goaded Edward.

Angry voices could be heard long before Bella came across the violent scene. Edward was bent at the waist, clutching his shoulder and cursing, and Carlisle, still wet and covered in dirt, was lording over him. Bella watched in mute horror as the men fought.

Edward straightened up a bit and kicked out to the side, his boot solidly catching Carlisle in the thigh. Carlisle swung his fist, clocking Edward under the chin. When Edward didn't topple, the trapper became even more enraged. Carlisle didn't take into account that Edward was taller, heavier and stronger or that it might take more than a roundhouse punch to flatten him. Rushing him with all his might, Carlisle slammed his shoulder into Edward's stomach, propelling both of them off their feet and into the long water trough behind them. Edward pulled himself out first and dunked Carlisle back down in the water when he tried to scramble out.

Carlisle continued his tirade the moment he resurfaced. "You might be able to win a fist fight, Eddie, but you ain't winning her. In fact, I'll make things equal and even help you out — I got some money, I'll pay off her debt. Then she'd be free to leave you and go with me. I'll make it so she's not your servant anymore. How about that? What'll it take? Bella cost you sixteen dollars, I'll give you twenty for her."

"I'm not selling you Bella."

"Twenty? Twenty-five? How much to set her free?"

Edward paused for a second too long.

" **I am not for sale!** " Bella shouted at the men, startling them. " **How dare you, both of you!** "

She walked close enough to them to save her voice, yet still maintaining some distance.

"I'd call you children for acting as you are, but that would be an insult to the children who are watching you right now. You're behaving like animals." Bella pointed to Emmett standing on the porch. A couple of Jasper's blond curls could be seen from where the little boy was peeking around the edge of the doorway.

Carlisle climbed out of the trough, gracelessly, and silently elbowed Edward hard in the ribs, knowing Bella had her attention focused on the boys. Edward snapped his arm back, catching Carlisle across the chest in a loud, wet smack.

The noise drew Bella's attention from the wide-eyed boy on the porch to the sheepish men in front of her.

"You two are a pair of damn idiots, trying to buy and sell me like you would a heifer or a sow. Is that the going rate for a person? Twenty-five dollars? You both make me sick. And I can't tell which of you is worse — the one buying or the one selling." Bella turned heel, leaving both men in the barnyard feeling all of two inches tall.

Emmett stayed on the porch, watching as Bella stormed past him, gathering Jasper on her way into the house. The young boy jumped as the door slammed shut with a bang.

"She's right. You can't buy people no more. Not even girls. They had a whole war about that, a long time ago. Bella told me all about it for school. It was called the Simple War. You could ask her about it, she'd teach you."

Incensed and embarrassed at being called out by Bella and then shown up by a child, the men resumed kicking and punching each other. After giving a split lip and receiving a blackened eye, Edward realized he was foolishly wasting his time fighting Carlisle when he really should be speaking to Bella.

"I ain't going to dicker with you over my wife, Carlisle. Now, you get the hell off my property." With one last solid punch to the jaw, causing Carlisle to fall through the fence by the chicken coop, Edward gathered up his courage and dashed to the house to find her.

When he opened the door to the house, the first thing he saw was Jasper. He was sitting at the base of the ladder to the loft, his arms crossed over his chest and a very sour look on his little face. On the dining table were Bella's basket and carpet bag. Both were packed.

Edward swallowed hard. She was leaving. Bella was leaving him before he even had the chance to tell her how he felt about her — how he adored her and how much he needed her.

"Bella? What's going on?"

Her face peered out from behind the curtain that served as a door to the loft, then disappeared.

"What do you think?" Bella was so angry, she didn't even want his name in her mouth.

Edward started for the ladder. It didn't matter that he couldn't stand upright there, he'd be on his knees if necessary to convince her to stay.

He didn't get more than two steps up before Bella reappeared. The broom and a twist of paper were in her hands as she began to climb down the ladder. Edward quickly got out of her way.

"The sheets were just changed, so they should be clean enough for your next maidservant to use. I'm not taking anything but what I arrived with, save for a skirt, two blouses and a dress I made from the fabrics you already had in supply. You can add the cost to my debt. By my calculations, I still owe you about thirteen dollars."

The twist of paper went into the stove and Bella tucked the broom back in its place.

"Bella, don't. See here…"

"I've adjusted my price due to the stores I'm leaving behind. You'll have no want this winter. The cellar is well stocked, the boys have more than enough clothes to grow into. You've a new set as well. By the chair, you'll find a basket of hats, scarves and mittens. Dinner is on the stove and should last three days with leftovers. Between you and your chum out there, you should fare just fine." There was no mistaking the sneer in her voice when she mentioned Carlisle.

"He's leaving." Edward was finally able to get a word in.

"Well then, you should be fine." Bella walked to the door to get her shawl.

Edward stepped in front of her, barring her way. Livid, Bella turned back to get her bags. She'd pummel him with them if she needed to, but she wasn't going to spend one more hour at this farm. . . not like this. Bella was done feeling second to a dead woman and wanting a man who obviously held no desire for her.

"Would you just stop and listen to me, for once?"

Bella stopped short. She dropped her bags to the floor and whirled around to face Edward.

With all the harsh words and yelling, neither noticed the upset little boy in the room, or when he disappeared.

"You're always getting mad and running off. You hear something you don't like, and instead of talking to me, you get mad and run off. Half the time I don't know what I've said to rile you. You make my head spin so fast, my neck hurts."

Bella pressed her lips into a thin line. How dare he try to point out her shortcomings when he was so in the wrong himself? She had always been quick to temper; it had landed her in trouble from time to time. Other than her parents, very few people had experienced it. Edward calling her out on her behaviour took some of the wind out of her sails . . . and it stung.

"I'm not good with words, Bella. I don't know half the fancy stuff you do. I am a simple man. I work by myself most of the time. I'm used to doing what has to be done. This farm, the work here comes first. So, I'm sorry if it's taking me too long to get my thoughts together to talk to you properly. But you need to be more patient with me."

Bella put both hands on her hips and waited.

"It doesn't matter what Carlisle said or offered. I'm not selling you or your debt. I don't care about the debt. I want you to stay here."

"Stay here and what? Be your servant for the rest of my time? Clean your house and cook your meals for the next three and a half years?"

"Well, yes. Not as my servant, though. But that, the housekeeping and other things too."

"Such as?" She fixed him with a pointed stare, the hands on her hips clenching into fists.

"Well, I was thinking that maybe you could start sleeping downstairs in my bed?" Edward could feel his ears start to overheat and he knew they were beet red.

"With you?"

"Um, yes?" The word came out with a croak and a squeak.

"How lovely, my second seductive proposal of the day. A girl could just swoon with all the romance around here. That's no reason for me to stay, let me tell you." Bella bent to retrieve her bag but stood, forgetting them when Edward peppered her with questions.

"Wait — what? What did Carlisle say to you?"

"He asked me to leave you. To run away with him and live in sin until you divorce me. Said he'd have me in his bed as fast as possible, as if that's what makes a marriage. Arrogant ass."

"He said all that to you? _My wife?_ "

Bella let out a derisive snort.

"I should go find him and beat him again." Edward trailed off, turning his head toward the door.

"Is that it then? Is that all you have to say to me? I need to stay here because you're not good with words and I can move into your bed?"

Edward just nodded, tongue-tied. He'd try to be more romantic with her later, when she wasn't near as angry.

"Not good enough."

"Look, Bella. What I'm trying to say is that I'd like you to be my wife, real and proper. We didn't have any courting time or such, but I'd court you now to show you the kind of man I am. The beginning is hard, trying to learn each other, not knowing what someone else likes or doesn't like. You never tell me things like that, and I don't know how to talk to you."

"Speak to me like a person, Edward. Ask me questions. That's how to talk to me. It's not hard to show some interest."

"Will you stop thinking of yourself as a servant?"

"That depends. Will you stop treating me as such?"

"I didn't think I was."

"Well, you sure as hell haven't been treating me like your wife."

"Like I said, it takes time to ease into marriage. Why it took months before Rachel and I…"

" **I'M NOT RACHEL!** " Bella screamed at him. Her voice was so loud Leah began to bark in the barn and the horses bolted through the broken fence, jumping over the semi-conscious Carlisle. A frightened Emmett leapt off the porch and ran into the barn to calm Leah.

Bella reached for the sharpest knife in the kitchen. She held her braid in one hand and sawed it off with the other, taking long, violent strokes until it was free. Edward's jaw fell open in shock, but he made no sound. She slammed both on the table and picked up her bags.

"There," she seethed as she walked past him. "You can sell that and recoup most of my debt. Should be good for ten dollars at least. I'll send the rest later. In the meantime, why don't you ask Carlisle to join you in your bed? The two of you deserve each other."

Thunderstruck, Edward watched as she flew out the door, down the porch steps and raced for the hills.

 **AN: I know there is a large faction of readers who have been waiting for this chapter for a long time. I hope it was worth the wait. I know I've been waiting for this chapter.**

 **This story is loosely based on the film, _Rachel and The Stranger,_ RKO Radio Pictures c. 1948.**

 **Thank you, dear reader, for doing what you do best.**


	21. Chapter 21

**I own nothing of the Twilight Universe. I owe great squishy hugs to Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77. And possibly a large bottle of something very smooth.**

 **Chapter 21**

Carlisle came to just as the sow was gingerly stepping over him toward her escape. The first thing he saw was nipples; big ones, and many of them. He rubbed his eyes with his fists and was rewarded with a knock to the head by a passing pig's trotter. Edward was shouting something Carlisle couldn't understand. Wincing and moaning, he sat up to see the sow headed for the woods, a calf on the front porch and the angriest Edward Masen he had ever seen, Junior or Senior.

Carlisle made no effort to move as he watched Edward convince the calf to leave the porch and coaxed it back into the barn. Edward kicked his foot hard as he passed and unleashed a string of very colourful names at him — names he would never have the gall to say in front of a lady. Carlisle just lay there, his injuries smarting, laughing to himself because he was the one who taught Steady Eddie all those curse words in the first place.

Once the calf was safely back in its pen, Edward checked on Leah and her pups. Emmett was sitting next to her, stroking her head and talking to the puppies. The boy looked up at him silently, but his brows were furrowed. Edward ruffled Emmett's already messy hair and let him be. He was ashamed that both his sons had witnessed his fight with Carlisle, and then his harsh words with Bella. He felt like an ass, remembering the way she couldn't wait to get out of the house and leave him, and now, knowing his boys would be heartbroken again.

Walking back through the barn, Edward grabbed several lengths of rope, his hammer and a handful of nails. The faster he got the fence fixed, the sooner he could corral the animals that had run off when he punched Carlisle through the damn thing. Then he could go after Bella and convince her to come back home; back to him and back to his boys. He'd try to win her over with the promise of a real marriage. No more thinking and pondering, for once he was going to say exactly what was in his heart. He wasn't above begging for forgiveness it that's what it took to get her back. They'd finally be together, as a family, a real family

Unfortunately, rounding up the livestock had to take priority over finding Bella. The well-being of his family depended on those animals; if they injured themselves in the woods or someone stole them, everyone would suffer. Edward knew Bella would understand the cause for his delay when he found her. Edward kicked Carlisle's foot again when he reached the breach in the fence.

"Get your fool ass up and help me round up the livestock. It's your damn fault they ran off."

"How'd you figure that? I didn't ask you to put me through the fence." Carlisle whined

"You were begging for a beating and that's the result. I don't have time to argue with you about it. Just get yourself up and help right this mess. I need to go get my wife."

Carlisle tried to stand up, but found his knees wobbly and his head spinning. He flopped back down again.

"Bella ran off?"

Edward held two pieces of broken fence rail together and tried to nail a brace across them. It promptly fell apart. The job needed at least two more hands. Edward whistled at Carlisle to get his attention and nodded at the fence rail. If the fence looked solid his animals wouldn't test it.

Carlisle held the lower rail in wait for Edward to fix it, before moving to hold the rest while still on his knees. He knew better than to try standing just yet. The beating he took had knocked the stuffing right out of him. He knew if he tried to stand, he'd groan and gripe like an old man, giving Edward fodder to tease. This beating made Carlisle realize he wasn't as spry a man anymore. He really needed to find himself a wife and soon — someone to care for his every wish while he was still in his prime and look after him when he got old.

"Bella say anything about me?" Carlisle eyed Edward's hammer, regretting the stupid question as soon as he let it loose.

"She told me you made a play for her; can't say I'm surprised. Then she hacked off her braid to pay off her debt." Edward said with a sneer towards Carlisle.

"Shit. Really? I don't right care for short hair on my women. Makes 'em look wrong, somehow. I don't know if I'd want Bella now that she's got short hair. . ."

Carlisle wrinkled his nose at the idea of Bella with cropped hair. Her long braid was bewitching. Many nights he'd lain awake imagining slowly unplaiting her hair and running his fingers through it or using the thick braid like a tether while engaging in very enjoyable behaviour. Rachel and her severe topknot only made him want to bonk her on the head like a bell.

" _She's my wife_ ," Edward shouted. "It's not up to you to like her hair or not. Once we've fixed this mess you've made, I don't ever want to see hide nor hair of you again."

"Wait — you were serious about that? You're kicking me out? You're throwing away all these years of friendship over a skirt?"

"No, you're the one who ruined everything. And she is not just a damned skirt — she's a fine woman, _my_ woman and a hell of a lot more important in my life than you." Edward dropped his hammer in the dirt. The fence would hold well enough for now. He was too tempted to use the hammer for other reasons, like pounding Carlisle into mush.

* * *

It took an hour and a half of searching before all the animals were found, save one determined young rooster. Edward decided he'd gladly eat that loss if it meant he could go searching for Bella all the sooner. Carlisle could be seen limping from a well-placed kick the sow had given him when he tried to re-introduce her to her pen.

After a side-splitting laugh at the trapper's expense, Edward took a final inventory of the situation. None of the shoats had escaped; their pen beside their mother's hadn't been damaged in the fight. Now that the stock was safe, Edward could turn his attention to chasing Bella down and bringing her home.

Edward saddled his mare, Jessie, and brought her out to the yard. He was surprised to see Carlisle mounted on his own horse and waiting for him.

"We'll find her faster if we split up, Ed. Tell me which path to take and I'll help find her."

"And try to make another play for her hand? I ain't that stupid." Edward mounted his horse and flicked the reins.

"I swear I'll just bring her back here — no funny business at all." Carlisle made a sign of a cross and spit on to the ground as a way to seal his pledge.

"Fine. Most likely she's going to town and back to Stanley's. She went over that hill there." He pointed in the direction of town.

Edward called out to Emmett and told him to keep an eye on Jasper, instructing him and his brother to stay put in the house like they had been warned to do. Leah would alert them if anything should happen. Edward didn't plan on being away from home for very long. Riding his horse to town took only about an hour or so, both ways, providing he could get Jessie to go at a good clip.

* * *

Ten minutes into the ride, the road forked. The creek that ran past the farm fed into a small egg-shaped lake, and the town of River Forks bordered the lake's far side.

One path led left, around the lake, following its shoreline. The other path disappeared to the right through the woods.

While the path through the woods seemed to be the daunting and foreboding choice, it ended up in town much faster as it was a straight shot through the trees, followed by a slight turn, and then another direct path leading right into River Forks. The shoreline path looked at first to be easier — out in the sun and open. It was, in fact, a much longer trek, full of boulders, tree roots and diversions. The shoreline path took closer to two hours to walk as opposed to the forest trail, which took just over an hour at a brisk pace.

Carlisle supposed Bella would have taken the windy path around the lake, reasoning that she would want to keep the town in her sights rather than journey through the dark woods.

Edward didn't argue with him; he knew Bella would have taken the wooded path — it was the only way she knew to get back to town. It was the route they had taken to get to the farm that first day.

The men parted company, each glad to be rid of the other.

* * *

While Edward and Carlisle were still making repairs and chasing cows, Bella had already reached the fork in the road.

She'd sat at the lake's edge for a good long time, long enough for a cleansing cry. She was past angry and well on the way to becoming enraged, mostly at herself. Bella found it soothing, sitting near the water and throwing rocks, cursing as loudly as she dared.

Once Bella had finished crying and cursing, she dried her eyes with the hem of her petticoat and tucked her hair behind her ears. She felt so foolish. It was a rash thing to do — running out of there like that, hacking her braid off and leaving.

Bella's foolhardiness gave way to despondency. She'd left her heart behind as well, just like her hair; she was certain of it. Her heart was still at the farm, shredded into pieces of her own doing. Left behind were equal parts for Jasper and Emmett, a sliver or two for Leah and her babies, but the biggest part of her heart she had slipped into Edward's pocket without his knowledge. He'd never know just how much she cared for him.

She knew she'd never be the same with the mangled remnant she'd kept for herself. She'd carry on, but _nothing_ would ever be right again; Bella knew she'd never feel for another man the way she felt for Edward. Her hair would grow back, but not the missing pieces of her heart. The price Edward would get for the braid was cheap in comparison to what she had really left behind.

Bella wished she could go back and tell the boys that none of this was their fault. She would tell Emmett and Jasper she still loved them, that their father loved them and that they should always mind him. She would explain to them that it was simply time for her to move on, and that was the only reason she left. With time, she hoped, they'd forget the fighting and yelling.

She thought about writing them letters, but there was no guarantee Edward would read them to the boys, and neither Emmett nor Jasper could read well enough for what she really wanted to say to them. Perhaps a few years down the road she could write them and they'd understand.

She reached up to wipe her eyes and ran her hands over her hair to smooth it. It was a habit she performed several times a day by rote, to tame any strands that may have escaped her braid. Bella had forgotten what she had done to herself for a moment and was horrified by what she felt. Her hair was longer on the right side, hanging well past the edge of her jaw almost to her shoulder, but just under her jaw on the left. She could feel the back was several differing lengths. Bowing her head, she could see the jagged edges of her once lovely hair.

She hadn't cut her hair more than half an inch at a time since she was a young girl. Bella hoped Irina was still working at the laundry since she could fix hair better than any Parisian hairdresser Bella had ever known. Irina worked for trade, too. For someone who worked in a laundry, Irina hated to wash her own clothes. Bella could do her laundry in exchange for a haircut and call the whole thing even.

Bella reached into her carpet bag and found her bonnett. She tucked as much of her shorn hair under the hat as possible. No one walking through town would see her hair until Irina had a chance to fix it. Once presentable, she could see about getting a job. Perhaps the hotel could use a cook or a housekeeper.

Stanley would hire her for certain, and treat her well enough, but Bella saw the laundry as a last resort. However, six months at the laundry would see the rest of her debt paid, plus leave her enough money to move to another town. Bella thought of heading back east, possibly south this time. Maybe she'd see where adventure would take her. She laughed, recognizing the sheer absurdity of that idea. What she really wanted was to stay in River Forks in hope of seeing Edward and the boys whenever they came to town. She could live satisfied with just a glimpse of them every few months.

Standing and brushing the moss and dirt from the back of her skirt, Bella tried to harden the rest of her heart, determined to journey on.

She continued walking down the trail into the woods; Bella found it peaceful in the mid-afternoon sun. There was a bite to the air and frost wasn't too far away, perhaps a day or so. An idea struck her — she'd not be cold this winter working at the laundry, that was for sure.

Bella laughed at her own folly.

* * *

After a sharp curve of the trail, the grade dropped severely. Bella remembered this hill from when she first walked to the farm. It was a bear of a hill; after having climbed several smaller hills it was disheartening to see, and even worse to negotiate. Her legs, she recalled, were on fire not even halfway up and she had considered herself a very fit person. Bella looked down at her feet. With the slight heel of her stout boots, Bella would have to pick her way carefully down the hill for fear of falling. The last thing she needed was another bruise on her body to match her bruised heart. She'd already had far too much pain for one day.

Gingerly, she made her way down the steep hill, taking short strides and often stepping sideways. About three-quarters of the way down, Bella stopped and reexamined what she was doing. She was tired of cautiously navigating her life, carefully watching her tread so as not to harm or be harmed. She didn't want to keep living her life that way, hampered and tentative, allowing others to dictate her actions — much like the way she was hesitantly maneuvering this hill.

What could really come to her if she wasn't so careful? A bruise or a scrape? Young and healthy, her bruises would fade and scrapes heal. A scar is just a small reminder of a risk taken. Her heart was broken and would never be fully repaired, but she was still alive. She wanted to remind herself of that, force herself to feel and take some fun when she found it. She needed to believe she'd be able to live, really live again.

Facing the decline, Bella slid her bags down the hill, the small, marble-like rocks causing them to roll most of the way down. With her feet planted firmly, she opened her arms like some giant bird and all but propelled herself down the hill, running as fast as she could. She raced as if she were a young girl again, the wind in her face and the thrill of speed and danger tickling her soul. It was brief, but exhilarating.

Bella skidded to a stop at the bottom of the hill and turned, looking back. There were elongated tracks from her boots for a couple of yards up the base of the hill and then nothing. She looked down and saw an abundance of dust on her skirts and boots. For a moment or two, Bella had enjoyed the feeling of freedom before reality reared its ugly head again. Her heart was still just as broken, and now it was pounding from exertion.

She picked up her bags and continued her journey. There was a bit more breeze at the bottom of the hill and a shiver ran through her. Her pace quickened as tears prickled in her eyes again.

Another five minutes down the path and the wind started to play tricks with Bella's mind. Faint sounds, like a horse's canter, reached her ears. For the first time since leaving Edward, she began to feel vulnerable, scared. The sound of hooves became louder. What would she say if Edward had come chasing after her? She could feel stirrings of hope bloom inside her chest and tamped them down. What if it was Carlisle, or worse, some stranger with less than honourable intentions? Bella juggled her baggage enough to reach into the side pocket of the carpet bag.

Her father had insisted she always carry a hearty plug of ground peppercorns whenever she was travelling. Blown into the face of a marauder or assailant, it would temporarily incapacitate them and allow her a moment or two to either scream or escape. Bella palmed the small cloth pouch and kept the basket fixed in the crook of her arm. She'd throw that too, if needed. Her carpet bag made for a effective weapon as well.

Bella moved to the side of the track, not too close to the edge, but leaving enough room for the rider to pass by. She held her head high, back straight and shoulders firmly set. She did not want to be seen as weak or timid by anyone passing her on the road.

As the horse and rider came closer, she increased her pace. The town was not far off, perhaps ten minutes at a brisk walk. She could just see the first building when she heard her name shouted in the distance.

Bella turned, and dropped her bags to the ground.

 **AN: I fear I may be stirring up The Tempest, and this note will be Much Ado About Nothing, however As You Like It you should know this story won't post again until Twelfth Night (day). It is not Love's Labour Lost, All's Well That Ends Well, this story will continue, Measure For Measure. This Comedy Of Errors shall return as soon as we Merry Wives of Windsor have feasted and rested. Don't be angry, there is no need for all of us to have to witness The Taming Of The Shrew, so you'll just have to wait a week and stuff it up your Coriolanus.**

 **Cheers and happy which ever holiday you celebrate, dear reader. Thank you for reading.**


	22. Chapter 22

**I've learned many things so far this year by day 5. ee cummings was very smart to eliminate all punctuation from his work, although I'm still iffy on the capitalization, I kind of like those. I've learned that although I add a disclaimer stating my lack of ownership rights to Twilight characters, it would mean jack in a court of law. I've learned to love and respect my betas, pre-readers, gurus, whatever title they prefer, even more than I did last year. Thank you to Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77 for their help and encouragement.**

 **Chapter 22**

Edward's horse balked at the top of the hill.

The mare was tired. After her escape from the fenced paddock, she'd made her way down to the creek, and had a wonderful time splashing and frolicking in the shallow water. By the time Edward found her there, dripping wet, she looked ready for a good meal, a rub down and a nap. Instead, he'd pressed her into service; saddling her and riding away from the farm as if the devil himself was afoot. A quarter horse can be ridden at a very fast pace, but not for any great lengths. After two and a half miles the mare was done in and yearning for a rest. The severe slope of the hill was too much and she skidded to a halt, almost throwing her rider. Edward used the momentum to slide off the saddle and get to his feet as quickly as he could.

Edward looped her reins over a nearby branch and started down the hill. He went as fast as he could; slipping and sliding in some places, tripping and stumbling in others. Unlike the tracks Bella made, the marks from his feet took up the whole decline.

A loose rock triggered Edward's ungainly stop at the bottom of the hill. Ass over teakettle, he tumbled when his boot caught hold of the small boulder. Both arms and one leg flailed wildly while he tried to maintain his balance, but to no avail; he ended the fall landing hard on his rear, accompanied by a great cloud of dust. Edward took a moment to catch his breath. He coughed out the dust from his lungs while his mind raced, collecting the words he had been planning to say to Bella since the day he realized he loved her.

As he stood up, Edward smacked his hands across his rear a few times to get rid of some of the dirt, heedless of the bruises that were forming. Gulping a massive lungful of air, he sprinted the last quarter mile to where Bella stood.

Bella was astounded that Edward had come after her; that he was actually _here_ , in front of her. She thought for certain he was done, her juvenile overreactions angering him enough to be finished with her for good. Part of her was overjoyed that he had chased after her, but another part was fearful of what he might have to say.

There was a smear of blood on his chin. She could make out the beginnings of several bruises on his face, including a very bad one threatening to swell his right eye closed, and his hair was nothing short of chaotic. With all that, Bella still thought Edward the most handsome man she had ever seen. She was such a fool to think she could live without him—without _all_ of them—including that greasy, conceited snake in the grass, Carlisle. They were her family, and watching as Edward stumbled and limped his way toward her, Bella realized they had become her entire life.

Edward was still a bit wheezy when he reached Bella, but didn't let his breathlessness stop him from taking her in his embrace. She was standing there, her eyes red and sad, her arms limp at her side. He reached out and took her hand, pulling her close to him.

In a gentle but deliberate move, Edward guided her hand around her lower back and slowly wound his fingers through hers. Using their intertwined hands to press her forward, he brought her flush against him, bending Bella backwards slightly. His other hand kept Bella in balance; holding her fast between her shoulder blades. Edward held her firm and secure, effortlessly keeping her tight to him. He felt her free hand clasp his elbow, as if she were anchoring herself to him.

There was no fight or fear in her eyes as Edward searched Bella's face for any objection to his advances. He saw only the remnants of the sorrow he had caused her; the tracks of tears long dried on her face and some of her eyelashes stuck together.

Boldly, he captured her lips in a firm kiss and pulling back, sighed in relief and pleasure. Ignoring the complaints of his freshly battered muscles, Edward kissed her again with increasing hunger. Any amount of pain was worth kissing her the way he had long desired. He braved opening his eyes to gauge her response, and saw with joy that Bella's eyes were closed and her eyelashes fluttered against her flushed cheeks.

Edward held Bella as tightly as he dared, cautiously, not wanting to break her in half though still in such need of being as close to her as possible. With an urgency he'd never felt before, his lips coaxed her mouth open and his tongue reached for hers, tasting and sampling. He lost himself in the feeling of her, of Bella, of _his_ Bella. Sensations coursed through his body from this want of her, this need of her; sensations that were making themselves known everywhere, taking over as most of his common sense fled. His mind bellowed to _take_ and _possess_ as much of her as possible.

Only the chill of the air stopped Edward from seeing this kiss to its best conclusion. He recognized that Bella deserved better than a roll in the leaves by the side of the road, and that thought had a cooling effect on his ardour. He had many things to say to Bella—apologies to make and sweet words to offer—before he could finally feel free to take her as his wife.

He slowed the kiss, reluctantly, and loosened his hold on her. Edward straightened, bringing Bella with him until she was upright again. He freed her hand from behind her back, keeping their fingers interlocked and brought it up to place a tender kiss on her knuckle. He felt ten feet tall; he had finally followed his heart and it led straight to her.

Bella, breathless and blushing, couldn't believe what was happening. Her eyes flickered briefly to his; she couldn't look in his eyes for more than a second, her fears rising, not knowing what was in his heart. If this was a goodbye kiss, she didn't want to see it in his face. She asked the only question she could think of—"Why?"

He gazed at her, raising one hand to cup her cheek. His thumb caressed the soft warm skin covering her cheekbone.

"Bella, I couldn't let you leave without you knowing how I feel about you. If you still want to go, I won't hold you back, but you have to know that I love you. I should have told you long ago and I'm sorry for being so late and thick-headed." He huffed a little sound, but stopped as soon as her eyes met his.

"If you don't want me," he continued, "if you don't love me, Bella . . . well, I can live the rest of my life knowing at least I told you the truth. Now that you know my feelings, you can decide what you want to do. Just understand that there is a man who loves you."

His stomach dropped as Bella hung her head, tears racing down her cheeks. Edward started to take a step back and released her hand. If she wasn't going to respond, he'd leave her be and let her get on with her life.

Bella lifted her face and searched his eyes. She was astonished at what she found there; determination, hope and adoration all danced across his brow, the farewell she'd expected nowhere to be seen.

"Why now? Why not before? I've been waiting for you, for something from you, a sign that …?"

"I told you, I'm a simple man. I don't know how to woo a woman. I've never done it before. I've never loved a woman before you." Bella gasped at this revelation. Edward smiled at her shock.

"You're going to have to be patient and help me. I didn't plan on falling in love with you. I meant to keep my promise to you when we married, to leave you alone and not pant after you. I was a blind fool. Who wouldn't fall for you? We all did, starting with Jasper."

Bella smiled; Jasper _had_ taken to her from the very start. The sweet boy cemented his place in her heart from the first time he called her _Is-bella_. Suddenly, a sharp twisting pain crossed her heart. She stepped out of Edward's hold leaving his hand outstretched, still cupped from cradling her cheek.

"Then why can't they call me _Mama_ if they want to, Edward? It took a lot of courage for Emmett to ask you and you hurt all of us when you said ' _No_ '. Those dear boys may not be my flesh and blood, but they are my heart. They know I'm not their mother and I know I'm not their mother, but what harm could come from calling me such? It's cruel to them, Edward. They've lost so much already. I knew I was little more than a servant to you, but that isn't how they saw me. And I just left them. I walked away. Oh. _Oh!_ What kind of mother does that? How could I—?"

Bella spoke so quickly Edward had difficulty keeping up with her rambling thoughts. He finally held his hand up and tenderly placed two fingers on her lips to silence her before she could work herself into hysterics.

"You didn't let me finish before, so let me speak my mind now. I said I didn't think they should call you _Mama_ because they had a mama. I said they needed a new name for you, but I don't think you heard that part. It ain't right for you to have to live with someone else's name hanging over you. Rachel's dead. She was a good mama, but she's gone. I figured maybe we could all come up with some name for you, just for you, and that maybe you'd stay even after the debt was paid. I wanted to ask you, Bella, to be my wife for real, in every way before you got mad and ran off."

Bella raised her face to the sky and sighed, slowly releasing her breath. She could feel all the pain and tension drain from her body, all the worry leave her heart. Lowering her head back down, she looked at Edward. His face was so open, so naked in its emotion, she wanted to weep for the sight of it. He wrapped his arms back around her waist.

"I promised you would only be a servant to us, Bella, and I tried to stick to that promise. You were so formal with me, making it easier to see you that way, not as a woman or a wife. When I tried to compliment you on your work, you were so frosty it wasn't hard to treat you like a servant because you acted like one. If I had known you held any interest in me, why, I'd have jumped as fast as lightning." He stopped talking when he saw she was frowning at him.

"You've never paid me any compliments, Edward."

"Sure I did, all the time in the beginning. How good your cooking was, how well you kept the house and did your chores. You never seemed to take to my words, so I thought I'd better stop. And then Carlisle came…"

Bella stepped back from Edward's embrace and studied him. She could see no deceit on his face; he honestly meant what he was saying.

"Edward? Do you know how many nights I cried myself to sleep over your 'compliments'?"

Her voice was so sad, Edward could feel a lump forming in his throat from her tone.

"You never once said I did well, you just said what Rachel did or didn't do. I thought I could do nothing right in your eyes. All I heard was you comparing me to Rachel and finding me lacking. For certain, I thought you were so in love with her, I'd never stand a chance."

Edward groaned. So many mistakes, piled one on top of the other. If he had only tried harder or spoke better, all of this wasted time could have been spent in much better, more pleasurable ways.

"I'm sorry I made you cry, honey. I didn't know. And I didn't intend it that way, not at all. You need to tell me, Bella, when I do something wrong. Don't go off getting huffy and wait for me to figure it out. I won't, I mean I can't. There is no mystery to me Bella. Just flat-out tell me or I won't understand, okay?" He held his arms open to invite her back in his embrace.

Bella nodded and sniffed back her tears. She stepped forward and felt his arms wrap around her. She laid her head on his chest and listened to the sounds of his breath and his heart. They were calming sounds, comfortable and dear. When she raised her head again she was able to smile at him.

Edward couldn't keep talking, there had already been far too much for him. He knew sometimes you had to talk, talk, talk but sometimes actions were better than words. Bella said she'd believed he loved Rachel still, and found herself lacking in comparison. He had no words to tell her just how wrong she was. Bella couldn't be compared to anyone.

With both hands cradling her face, Edward lowered his face to hers. This kiss was tender and sweet to start, but grew in passion until Bella had to hang on to Edward's shoulders for fear of falling. He used every part of his mouth to say what his brain could not form into words. His teeth nibbled and teased, his tongue swirled and stroked, and his lips tugged at hers.

When they had to break away from each other, Edward carefully pushed Bella's bonnet back and let her hair free. He stroked the new length of her hair, marvelling at the colour and the way it felt running through his fingers, like corn silk.

"Your hair is so pretty, Bella. I really liked it when you had it loose and wild. I'm sorry I made you so mad you cut it off. Will you come back and be my wife? Please?" He knew there was more he could have said, fancier words to win her heart. But he'd have to wait for her to teach them to him. For now, he'd ask the best way he could, short of getting down on one knee and begging.

Bella smiled at him indulgently.

"I'd like that." She understood the heartfelt sentiments behind this stilted, less-than-swoony proposal. Edward was a work in progress but he loved her; of this, she was certain.

Edward picked her up, whooping a holler so loud the birds nearby were startled into flight. He spun the two of them in a circle, round and round until they were both dizzy and giddy with laughter. She had given him his simple words back, showing she understood his heart and not just what he couldn't say. He dropped her gently back to the ground with a laugh.

"Good. Because the boys need you and I need you, Bella." Edward picked up her carpet bag and held his elbow out for her to take hold. He was beyond delighted. He'd spoken his mind and kept his thoughts in order. She hadn't said she loved him back and that was fine, he could wait as long as she needed.

Bella slipped her hand over his arm and looked up at him, happy and feeling free.

"Let's go before my horse takes off again."

"Again? Jessie got out of the paddock?"

Edward laughed.

"When I beat the tar out of Carlisle, the fence broke. Most of the animals got out and wandered off. I had to fix the fence and round them up before I could come get you."

Bella snickered at the idea of Carlisle receiving a beating. It might just be the best thing for him. Horrid thoughts tiptoed around her mind and she tugged on Edward's arm to make him stop walking. _What if … ?_

"Tell me this has nothing to do with Carlisle. Tell me it has nothing to do with jealousy or some sort of contest between you two. Tell me what you feel is real, Edward—I couldn't bear it otherwise. It has to be as real for you as it is for me."

Edward turned to face her and smiled. He tenderly kissed her forehead to soften the worry lines there.

"Carlisle may have helped open my eyes, but it's you, Bella. You made falling in love with you so easy, and I thank you for it."

They walked slowly up the hill together to where Edward's horse was happily munching leaves and grass. He strapped the carpet bag and basket to the saddle and held the reins in one hand. The other hand he held out for his wife, and together, they started back to their farm.

 **AN: Whoa boy! They are on the same page now, same book too. Happy New Year!**

 **Tomorrow, January 6, 2018, nominations for the Twific Fandom Awards open. You have two weeks to nominate all your favourites, writers, bannermakers, betas, you name it. I am honoured to be a validator for this contest and I can't wait to get started.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Thank you Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc, and IpsitaC77 for sharing your knowledge, your kind help and unfailing support.**

 **Chapter 23**

Hand in hand, they walked back to their home. The mood was entirely different from the first time they took this trek together. Gone were the nerves and trepidation, replaced with longing and hope. Every few yards, their eyes would meet and shy smiles were exchanged.

At the fork in the road where Edward and Carlisle had parted, and where Bella sat thinking, Edward could take the soft smiles no longer. He dropped the reins and reached for his bride. He dipped down in front of her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and stood, lifting her off the ground. Bella, giddy with delight, immediately threw her arms around his neck and cradled the back of his head in her hands.

The first kiss was brief, no more than a second or two of their lips meeting. The next was slightly longer, Bella tilting her head for a different angle. The third, much longer, still sweet and gentle, but with the delicious possibility of leading to more. The fourth kiss melted almost every bone in Bella's body and sparked every muscle of Edward's into high alert.

Without coaxing, their lips sought and found the other's. If Edward had moved his hand a few inches higher, Bella would have let out a rather embarrassing moan. If Bella hadn't stopped slowly stroking her fingers behind Edward's left ear, he would have lost all sense and laid her down on the dirt road. Dizzy, swimming feelings swirled around their heads as if neither of them was tethered to the ground by gravity, and given the chance, they might have slowly floated up to the sky.

Edward's horse started walking back towards home. Jessie knew the way and was tired. Edward didn't usually ignore her like that; just drop her reins and stand to the side. While she liked the female and was happy to see them together, she liked her stall and feed bin better. The horse had strolled quite far away by the time Edward and Bella noticed she was gone.

When they finally broke free for breath, Edward laughed aloud at the sight of Jessie, reins trailing in the dirt, slowly walking down the track. Her tail was swishing back and forth, not to swat insects, but in annoyance. When she heard Edward laugh, she turned her head and nickered at him. It was the equine version of a cuss word, Edward was certain.

He gently placed Bella back on her feet and held her until she found her balance. She slid her hands down from his neck to his shoulders, along his chest and left them to rest on his waist. Edward untied her bonnet and repositioned it on her head, tucking her hair under before retying the ribbons. He placed a light kiss on the tip of her nose before drawing himself to his full height.

"We'd best head for home. Emmett will get spooked if he sees the horse without us."

"Is Carlisle there? Is he looking after the boys?"

"No, Emmett is looking out for Jasper. There are rules for him to be in charge. I had to make them up last winter after...after we were alone, so I could get chores done in the barn."

"Edward, you can say her name. I don't mind hearing about Rachel. She was your wife and their mother; she always will be. I'm not trying to get rid of her, I just don't like being compared to her. I'm not Rachel; I'm here, alive and in love with you."

"You are?" He could barely form the words through his triumphant grin. Bella broke out in a smile so broad as to rival Edward's. Her eyes glinted with unshed tears, joyful in nature as she nodded.

"I am."

Edward leaned down to kiss her again, but their peace was interrupted by the peal of the emergency bell. He grabbed Bella's hand and they began running over the ridge towards home, overtaking the horse at the crest of the hill.

There, on the porch, was a very sad-looking Emmett. He was sitting on the first step with his elbows on his knees and both hands covering his face.

Emmett looked up when he heard his papa's running footsteps. He was happy Bella was with him, but scared silly at what would happen when they found out he had lost his little brother. He just knew Papa was going to yell at him. He felt almost sick as they got closer, jumping to his feet and running to meet them.

"What's going on, Emmett? Why'd you ring the bell?"

"Papa, Papa, I can't find Jasper. He's gone." Emmett cried, hiccuping. He threw his arms around his papa's legs.

"Calm down and tell me everything." Edward placed both hands on Emmett's shoulders to reassure him and looked his upset son in the eye. He tried to keep his fear and worry from his face, not wanting to trouble Emmett further. Edward noticed that the knuckles on his right hand were split and bloody, the left red and swollen, but they didn't feel one quarter as painful as maybe losing his baby boy.

"You told me to look after him and I did. I did everything you told me to do when you're gone. I bolted the door and stayed with him. He was stuck hiding under his bed, but I fished him out. We played some with the blocks and animals. We stayed far away from the stove, just like you said. Jasper laid down on the rug and shut his eyes and I thought he were sleeping. I had to go powerful bad, Papa. I never woulda have left him if I didn't have to go so bad. But he was still and I really had to go. I closed the door and went to the outhouse. I was only gone for a jiffy. I was real quiet when I got back so Jasper wouldn't knowed I'd left him alone or wake him up, but when I opened the door, he was gone." Emmett paused, drawing a huge breath.

"You're sure the door was still closed?"

"Yes sir, I'm sure. But I looked all over the house and I can't find him nowhere. I hollered his name, but he ain't answering me. I thought about looking in the barn, but you said it ain't safe without you, so I rang the bell. I was hoping he'd come out from hiding when he heard the bell, but he's ain't nowhere."

As Edward stood and ran his hand through his hair in thought, Bella dropped to her knees and took hold of Emmett. The boy calmed some after a good hug, but still hiccoughed from time to time.

Taking Emmett's hand, Bella led the way into the house. In the doorway, Edward announced he would go search the barn and farmyard. Bella had Emmett show her every place he'd searched for Jasper. Together, they looked under beds, behind hanging clothes, inside cupboards and wardrobes, and every inch of the cellar. There was only one place left to look, and Bella was overjoyed to find Jasper in her sleeping loft, curled up on her bed.

She sat on the edge of the bed and ran her fingers tenderly through his hair to wake him. His curls were slightly damp from sleep and shot through with shades of gold and brass. There were hints of the beautiful young man he would someday become in his still, slightly baby-face. Bella could tell he'd be as handsome as his father. She wanted to cry at the sight of dried tears on his cheeks, knowing she was the reason they were there. She spoke to him softly.

"Jasper, honey. You need to wake up." The little boy stretched and hummed but didn't open his eyes.

"Jasper. Come on, wake up for me. We've been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing up here?"

Jasper sat up and rubbed his eyes. Bella's hand rested on his shoulder. He looked at her face, smiling at him in relief, leaned over—and bit her on the wrist. Not hard enough to break the skin and draw blood, but hard enough to make her wrench the injured hand back and cradle it to her chest.

"Ow! Why did you do that?" Bella gasped.

"I is angry at you, Is-Bella. You runned away and you not take me."

"I'm sorry you're angry. And I'm very sorry I ran away from home, but we still don't bite people, Jasper. It hurts." Bella rubbed the red mark left by his teeth. There was a perfect half oval on the top of her wrist and a matching one underneath.

"I hurts." He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned.

"It was wrong of me to leave like that. I promise not to do it ever again. Do you think you can forgive me?" Bella placed her uninjured hand over her heart as a pledge.

"You gonna run away again?" Jasper looked at her very suspiciously.

"No, honey. I won't leave again, not without you and Papa and Emmett. We're going to be a family. And I was wrong to run away like that. I should have stayed and listened instead of running away."

Emmett climbed the ladder and sat on the floor near the top. When Edward's frantic footsteps were heard rushing up the porch, Bella and Emmett called down to him, letting him know Jasper was safe and sound.

"Did Papa say ' _sorry_ ' for yelling?" Jasper cut his eyes to the side toward Edward as he climbed the ladder.

"Yes, Papa said ' _sorry_ ' and I said ' _sorry_ '."

"Did you shake hands? We always have to shake hands after we fight. When it's not my fault I have to shake hands first." Emmett piped up from his spot on the floor.

"Yes, in fact we held hands all the way home just to be sure." Edward grinned and winked at Bella.

Bella plucked Jasper off the bed and held him in her lap. She held out her right hand for Emmett to shake.

"Even though we didn't fight, can we still shake and make up?"

Emmett accepted, shaking Bella's hand with a laugh and an over-exaggerated movement.

"I'm happy you came back, Bella. My birthday is next week and Papa can't cook. Would you make me a big cake? Seven-years-old means a big cake, right?"

"I sorry I bited you, Is-bella. Can I have cake too?" Jasper chimed in, his eyes brimming with hope.

* * *

It didn't take much to convince Jasper to leave the loft. Spending dusk baking a trial cake as practise for Emmett's upcoming birthday was incentive enough. With no chocolate or cocoa in the house, Bella made her next favourite cake, an applesauce gingerbread. Both boys were content with licking spoons streaked with molasses as she readied the rest of the ingredients. A thin, custardy cream sauce and a bit of extra applesauce for a topping made for a fine cake and a late afternoon well-spent.

Edward retired to the barn to tend the animals and see to Jessie. The mare was in her stall and not at all pleased to be woken, even when it was to be relieved of her saddle and baggage. A thorough rub-down eased her temper as well as several carrots as an extra treat.

After Edward enjoyed a quick bath in the barn, he brought Bella's bags back to the house and left them just inside the door. He didn't know yet whether she'd unpack upstairs in the loft, or hopefully, in his room—their room—if she'd allow. He felt badly she hadn't had the chance to change out of her dusty gear. He could see she'd brushed the worst of it away while he was busy. But then, she only had a bit of road dust on her clothes while he had half the barnyard stuck to his pants from fighting Carlisle.

As he changed out of his filthy clothes, he looked around the room, imagining her things in there, mixed with his. He could picture her hairbrush side-by-side with his comb on the dresser, her bonnet beside his hat on the pegs by the door. The wardrobe would be stuffed with twice as many clothes and be much more colourful with her pretty dresses pressed in with his shirts.

* * *

While he tried very hard to pay attention to the conversation of his family at dinner time, Edward's mind was fixed on Bella's bags and his eyes wandered over to them again and again. Then, they'd wander over to Bella and his heart would swell. Even with her hair short and uneven, with the tired look on her face and her eyes still puffy from the crying she'd done before, she was the most lovely lady he had ever seen. He couldn't believe his luck. He hadn't lost her for good by being a tongue-tied fool. He'd convinced her to come back and was going to do everything he could to make sure she wanted to stay.

Edward started small. He remembered to thank Bella for the tasty meal. When she rose to clear the table, he jumped to his feet and stopped her. He picked up her plate in his left hand, while caressing her face with the back of his right. He'd hardly ever shown her affection, and never in front of the boys. He decided if he was turning over a new leaf, he'd better do it with his entire being. His boys needed to learn the right way to treat a wife just as much as Edward needed to learn for himself.

His new enlightenment went as far as placing the dirty dishes by the sink. He'd let Bella do the washing up. But when he sat back down at the table, he took her hand in his and kept sweeping his thumb across her knuckles in a slow circle.

The boys were reluctant to go to bed, but eventually they nodded off. They fought sleep for as long as they could, but the weariness was clearly written on their faces. It had been such a difficult day, mentally and emotionally, for everyone. Bella had to reassure Jasper several times that she would still be there in the morning. Both Edward and Emmett were pleased to hear her say it, as well.

As Bella began her nightly kitchen clean-up, Edward went out for one last check on the barn and the animals. He made sure the patched part of the fence was secure and the stalls were latched tight. With all the excitement of the day, the stock was exhausted and resting.

When he came back into the house, the first thing Edward noticed was Bella's bags had been moved. They were no longer on the floor near the door. His eyes travelled up the ladder and his heart sank. The light was on in the loft and he could see her silhouette on the curtain. With a big sigh, he swallowed his disappointment and resolved to work harder to be a real husband to Bella.

He called a goodnight up to her and slowly walked into his room. He knew he'd have trouble sleeping. The arguments for having her move into his room had already begun to run through his mind.

Edward didn't notice the faint glow coming from his room or the candles Bella had lit while he was out tending the animals. He did, however, trip over her carpet bag at the foot of his bed. He sprawled forward and caught himself with his hands, ass in the air, just before he could fall completely.

When he heard Bella laugh softly in the doorway, Edward straightened up, wheeled around and tripped over the bag again. This time he landed on his rear on the bed with a bounce. He lost his breath and almost his mind when Bella stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.

 **AN: Thank you for reading.**


	24. Chapter 24

****THIS CHAPTER IS PART ONE OF TWO.** The steamy conclusion will post one week from today if you would like to read it as a whole. Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77 are the backbone of this story. Many thanks to all of them for their efforts and friendship.**

 **Chapter 24**

Edward stared at Bella for the longest time. She was standing with her back pressed to the door, her hand on the door handle behind her back. The soft smile on her face gradually dimmed the longer he stared at her and said nothing. She began to wonder if coming to his room was a mistake. Perhaps they weren't ready for the closeness she had envisioned.

Edward was taken by how pretty Bella looked in the candlelight. She had fastened her hair back as best she could when she was cooking; a thick ribbon tied in a knot at the top of her head. The shorter pieces of hair curled around the ribbon and framed her face in soft brown waves. The differing lengths were disguised, swept back together. He missed the long braid, but very much enjoyed this shorter, less controlled hairstyle. Edward was reminded of that first morning, when she came to the barnyard with her hair wild and free.

Bella's face flushed with embarrassment, not in the coy shyness of a new bride about to lose herself to her groom, but in realizing she was acting like a hussy by waltzing into his room and closing the door. She cleared her throat and turned the door handle to escape.

Her movements and the sounds she made spurred Edward into action. He leapt up from his sprawl on the bed and rushed over to her, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. Using two fingers, he gingerly raised Bella's chin so she looked him straight in the eye. Much to Edward's relief, there was no fear in her eyes; only acceptance, love and a little shyness.

Stooping slightly, Edward lowered himself to Bella's height. He leaned in and brushed his cheek against hers, enjoying the softness of her skin and the light scent of flowers that always surrounded her. He wrapped his arms around her back and effortlessly lifted her; her back still resting against the door but sliding easily on the flat wooden surface. Bella brought her hands up and held tightly onto his shoulders.

Holding Bella aloft, Edward walked slowly over to the bed. Although he wanted to toss her onto it and climb on top of her, he held on to his gentlemanly sensibilities and carefully lowered until her feet were firmly on the floor. All this time, Edward's mouth was on her skin, her lips; his hands aching with a need to explore Bella's entire body.

Bella reached up with her hands and softly stroked his face. Her fingers toyed with the short, sharp hairs at his jawline and tenderly smoothed across his brow, finally threading themselves through the fine golden hair at his temples. When her fingers met at the back of Edward's head, she turned her hands up so they were cradling what was most dear to her.

Edward could feel her bosom pressed against his ribs and he basked in the feeling; he could only imagine how glorious it would feel on his bare chest, or better yet, how her breasts would feel pressed against his skin. While Bella's hands slowly wended their way through his hair, his hands eased downward and now splayed across her bottom.

Edward let out a low groan when he discovered, much to his delight, that her rear was fuller than he expected. With Bella being so slim, he had expected her to have a hard, bony bottom, but no—this was well-fleshed and a perfect fit for his hands. He held one cheek clutched in each hand—like some perfect fruit, ripe and ready for picking. Edward hoped one day he'd be allowed to see it unclothed. In fact, he really wanted to see _all_ of her unclothed.

Giving him a gentle push, Bella motioned for Edward to sit on the bed. He seemed reluctant to release her behind as he allowed his hands to slide over her hips and up to her waist. She sat beside him and angled her body to face him. Looking him deeply in the eye, Bella placed a tender kiss on his mouth and pulled back, waiting for a response. Edward blinked and smiled at her, but made no move to further his seduction.

Bella stifled a sigh. She knew a few things from eavesdropping around the saloon; hearing the whores and dancing girls talk about _the act_. Few of them were shy about _it_ , or fond of _it_ , but they all talked about _it_ , not knowing of the virgin ears listening nearby. Bella's knowledge of the fundamentals of sex may have been advanced for a woman of her breeding, but she still didn't know how to get to _that_ point. There was little talk of lead-up in the conversations she had overheard. It seemed to her that men who visited these ladies arrived primed and ready.

Bella wished she had someone to tell her how to get Edward started. It never occurred to her that she would have to lead her husband. As Edward appeared stalled, Bella waited as long as she could before she swallowed her nerves and took control.

She raised her hands to the banded collar at her throat and began to undo the buttons of her blouse one-by-one. The buttons ran diagonally across the top of her breast towards the left, near her arm and then down the side of her bosom to her waist, following her curves closely. There was a secret button on the right side of her waist, keeping the bodice secure.

There were forty tiny, cloth-covered buttons in all, and Edward watched her open each one, awestruck, like a man seeing the sun for the very first time.

After the twelfth, he removed his hands from Bella's waist so he could wipe the dampness from them on the legs of his denim trousers. The feel of the fabric becoming slowly untucked from under her waistband while watching the buttons as they were slipped from their loops had become too much stimulation.

By the thirtieth, two swatches of darker blue lines could easily been seen on his thighs.

However, it was the fortieth button that made him swallow convulsively. Even unbuttoned, the blouse revealed nothing. But if Edward had been able to move, a simple flick of the wrist would have allowed her blouse to fall open and Bella would be sitting beside him with only a thin white cotton chemise covering her breasts.

Bella tugged at the sleeves and carefully withdrew her arms from her blouse. Edward was as still as a statue. Only his eyes seemed to move, flitting and dancing over her chest, although she could hear his breath in stuttered gasps. Bella lifted up enough to finish untucking the blouse from her skirt and lay it across her lap. She reached up and removed the ribbon from her hair, shaking her head to free the strands. Bella watched as his eyes followed her hair moving back and forth, some locks curling over, some under until it settled and she could feel it framing her face.

Waiting for Edward's eyes to meet hers was interminable. However, after a very thorough inspection of her torso from the waist up, he finally looked her in the eye and grinned sheepishly at her.

When Bella made no move to take off more clothing, Edward jumped into action, pawing and wrestling his own shirt to remove it. He had far fewer buttons and less fuss, but his fumbling haste made its removal take longer than hers. His fight-damaged knuckles screamed in objection to all the movement, making Edward want to curse aloud, but he held back for fear of offending Bella. He felt a momentary shame when he revealed his lack of undershirt. Edward didn't want to admit to Bella that he had used the one he'd been wearing all day as both washcloth and towel after his quick bath in the barn. It wasn't the most refined way of bathing, but it got the job done enough to rid him of most of his stink.

Bella's eyes were drawn to the scar on his shoulder. While it was still pink and purple in places, it had healed nicely. In a few years there would be little scarring left, but there would always be a reminder of that day—that special time before, of them tentatively dancing around each other. She wanted to touch it, with her fingers, then her lips and tongue. Bella wondered just how forward she could get with Edward on this, their first night. She didn't want to shock him too much with her exploration. Bella knew Edward wasn't ready for her to satisfy her every curiosity just yet. He seemed so hesitant, so unsure of himself and she didn't want to push him too far. They desperately needed some time to really know each other first; to learn each other's wants and dreams.

Edward shuddered when Bella's fingers traced the scar on his shoulder. Memories of that afternoon flooded his mind, swimming snippets of a warm afternoon sun in his face and the nearness of her; the faint smell of whiskey on her breath as she tortuously tended to him. The reminder of those heady feelings sprang him into action.

Taking no heed, no time to ask permission, Edward reached his hands around Bella's waist and lifted her off the bed. Her skirts hampered the maneuver, but with some shifting and rearranging, Bella was soon sitting astride Edward's lap, much like they were the day Edward injured his shoulder. Again, Bella teased the healed flesh with the tips of her fingers. Edward pushed her hair off of her neck and nuzzled the soft skin there. He kissed his way across her shoulder as she leaned over and gently kissed his scar. His eyes rolled up into his head upon feeling her lips on his body.

Bella straightened and looked him in the eye. For all she knew, he could have been insulted by her forward behaviour, and she felt the need to explain herself to him.

"I wanted to do that, to kiss the hurt away. That day, when I stitched your shoulder, it was all I could do not to kiss it then. I wanted to run my fingers through your hair," She let his hair slide through her fingers until it just started to slip from her grasp, then gave the rest a gentle tug. Edward leaned his head back a bit to further enjoy the sensation.

"I wanted to stroke your brow to rid it of the pained look you had," Bella tilted her hands so that her thumbs were free to sweep across Edward's forehead, first at the hairline, then midway and finally tracing his eyebrows. She brought her right thumb to the upper bridge of his nose and smoothed it upwards, relaxing the tense furrow there. "But that was too much, too soon. We weren't ready for each other then, were we?"

Edward shook his head in response.

"I was so confused then, Bella. I'd promised to leave you be, to not touch you, but I wanted to, so much." A hitch in his throat made him pause and swallow. He feared sounding weak to her but he couldn't catch his breath, couldn't fill his lungs with enough air and it made his voice hoarse. He slid his hands from her waist up her back to splay across her shoulder blades. His pinky fingers pushed their way under the straps of Bella's chemise where they met the fabric of the garment.

"The day you took the stitches out, I dreamed of having you in my lap again and really acting on my wants. My mind wandered to places I hadn't allowed it to go before. And when I finally got my courage up enough to kiss you, oh Bella, I fell so hard for you with just that kiss."

Edward leaned in and kissed Bella's chin very gently. He ran his nose along her jaw and down her neck. He placed small kisses along her collarbone, stopping at her strap and reversing direction to the other shoulder. He was desperate to see, to touch Bella's breasts and wanted to ask, but could not for fear he would be rebuffed.

Edward had never seen a woman's breast that didn't have a child attached to it. Rachel insisted on wearing her nightgown at all times whenever they were intimate, or rather whenever Rachel would allow them to be intimate. She made asking to see and touch her unclothed breasts seem an unsavoury request and he didn't know enough about women to question her about it. Rachel made almost every part of marital relations seem unsavoury and a chore. Nothing in his whole life as a farmer had shown him otherwise; none of the female animals seemed to care for relations either. Edward just assumed it was that way for all women.

As he worked up the courage to ask Bella, he took his time kissing and nuzzling her neck. Edward discovered a spot just below her ear that made her shiver and spent a great deal of time there. Bella had been running her hands over his back and sides in lovely long strokes that both chilled and set him aflame.

As Edward straightened up and got ready to ask this most important question, Bella's hands left his skin. He watched, riveted, as she opened the first of the five buttons that held her chemise closed. He was slack-jawed by the time the fifth was open and in a total stupor when Bella eased the straps down, revealing herself to him.

Edward's mouth ran dry as he looked. In his wildest imagination, he had never pictured her properly. Bella's breasts were glorious. Creamy, rounded flesh with just the barest hint of blush peaked by a dusky rose areola and bud-like nipple. His hands were on her body, the palm of his right brushing her nipple before his brain registered what he was doing. He snatched his hands back before she could smack them away. He collected himself, staring at her navel until he could voice his request.

"Oh Bella, may I...can I touch you?"

Bella didn't respond verbally, but reached for his hands. She placed a tender kiss on each palm and then put his hands exactly where both of them were longing for him to touch. Edward cupped and stroked his fingers over the warm skin before squeezing gently. The sensation went straight to his groin and he had to shift his hips to avoid discomfort. When Bella shifted her hips in response, Edward groaned in delight. Her breasts fit perfectly in his hands; her nipples puckering and stiffening with his touch. It was the most erotic experience of his life to date.

Bella ran her hands over his chest and gently pinched his nipples in return. Edward hissed in pleasure and lay back onto the bed, but Bella remained sitting upright, straddling Edward's hips. She slowly teased her fingers down his torso to the waistband of his trousers, then ran the backs of her fingernails up to his shoulders. Her actions resulted in delicious sensations for both of them. Edward continued to touch and squeeze Bella's breasts—if allowed, he'd never let them go.

On Bella's next pass down Edward's body, she paused at his waistband before undoing the side fastener and then the smaller button that kept his trousers secure. One more small button and Edward's cock would be freed. Bella continued to tease by leaving his pants still partially open and running her nails back up his chest. When she reached his shoulders, she leaned down and kissed him before sitting up again and drawing her fingers back to his waistband. This time, her fingers dipped just under the fabric.

Edward still had a gentle grip on her breasts, one in each hand. Paralyzed by Bella's actions, he was unable to do more than just hold them. He watched her face intently as her hands played across his skin. She had never looked so beautiful as she did in this very moment. As she began her third pass up his body, he was jolted when Bella suddenly stopped her teasing and carefully stood up from her place on his lap.

Edward pushed himself up on his elbows and watched as Bella reached both hands to her side and unfastened her skirt and petticoat in one deft movement. With a quiet swoosh, both garments fell to the floor. Clad only in her bloomers, Bella walked to the other side of the bed and pulled back the covers. With a soft thump, she plumped the pillow to give it more loft and slid into the bed, the covers pulled up to her chin.

Edward sat up and turned to see her. _Was that it? Was that all they were to do tonight?_ He'd been hoping Bella would say those lovely words to him, ' _Edward, you may',_ and he would be allowed to make love to his wife for the first time. He swallowed his disappointment and tried to calm his body.

After a few moments of effort in vain, Edward stood to blow out the candles. He decided to let Bella see the state he was in, his full erection straining to be free, and then perhaps she would take pity on him.

Bella laughed quietly; her husband sounded like a child whose favourite toy had been taken from him and given to another. She lay on her side with her elbow bent and hand propping herself up as her eyes followed him around the room.

"Well then, goodnight Bella." Edward tried his hardest not to let his disappointment show in his voice. He left his trousers on the floor beside her skirts and got under the covers himself.

"I'm not tired, Edward." Her voice was quiet but teasing, with just a hint of tremble that belied her bravado. "Just a little cold; it's chilly tonight." She paused and Edward could hear her take in a deep breath. "Would you like to warm me?"

 **AN: I know, I know but all the rest of the good stuff is next week. There is too much life happening in my life to post a double chapter.**

 **This weekend is your last chance to nominate writers, betas, pre-readers, banner-makers, and your ultimate favourite stories for The TwiFic Fandom Awards. If you don't nominate your favourites, they can't win.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	25. Chapter 25

****Part Two** Many, many thanks to Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77. Without them, there would be no story worth reading.**

 **Chapter 25**

Edward all but lunged across the bed, hovering over his bride, joy and relief playing across his face.

"You had me worried. I thought maybe you changed your mind and wouldn't let me … um … well?"

"Let you?'' Bella paused.

When his only response was to blush, she continued softly prompting him.

"Let you what, Edward?"

She felt confused, but not wanting to embarrass him further, kept her questions gentle. Bella thought they would be exploring each other. She wanted to touch Edward, to kiss him and spend time in his arms, loving him. Wouldn't he want the same thing?

Bella wondered if perhaps he thought she wasn't supposed to participate in making love. She had heard some old-fashioned men liked their women to be as still as a statue, but didn't think Edward was that type; Bella didn't think she could be that type even if he demanded it of her. She already felt far too keyed up to just lie there with her eyes closed, pretending she wasn't aching for this man.

"Bella? Ah … how much do you know about … about the ... um … here, now?"

Edward gulped, his eyes sweeping around the room, trying to indicate nighttime activities without having to say the words aloud. He hadn't figured there would be a lot of talking involved with the activities he had planned. In fact, he hadn't planned on any talking at all.

Hoping to quell the apprehension she heard in his voice and to bolster her own courage, Bella ran her fingers up and down his chest in comfort. Edward rolled to her side, resting his hip on the bed, but still covering her with his upper body. Bella resumed her massage of his shoulders and arms with long, gentle caresses. She told him what she knew, trying to keep any nerves from her voice.

First, she mentioned the theoretical knowledge she had gained by living in close quarters in tents with noisy neighbours. Bella then spoke of the stern, joyless lecture a local matron had given her at her father's insistance when she began courting. And finally, in a faltering voice with some reluctance, Bella told him about the more colourful things she overheard from the painted ladies at the saloon comparing customers and experiences.

Bella wasn't sure what to expect from tonight, but surely something better, more loving than what she had pieced together in her mind. She loved Edward; just being this close to him was far above and beyond anything she had imagined for her first experience with a husband.

While she spoke, Edward began peppering her upper chest, neck and throat with soft kisses, his hands never leaving her breasts. Bella had trouble concentrating on what she was saying, losing her train of thought to the pleasure running through her body. Her fingers gripped and grasped as much of him as she could touch; his skin smooth, so soft and warm. Firm muscles rippled under her hands, and feelings of pride mixed with elation and satisfaction—this was _her_ man and he was strong and virile.

Edward took delight every time Bella's breathing stuttered and her words faltered—it meant he was having an effect on her. In turn, listening to her sighs was having a wonderful effect on him. The more she talked and the huskier her voice became, the more he needed to kiss and touch her, and the more his want of her grew.

Deciding she wasn't going to run screaming from the room once he made further advances, Edward moved so that his hips rested flush against hers. He held himself up with his elbows and kissed his way from the base of her throat to her lips. Much to his utter delight, Bella moved her legs to either side of his, holding him in place, possessing him. If it weren't for her bloomers, at this moment he'd be the happiest man in the world.

Leaning on one elbow, he trailed his hand down to the ruffled edge of her underdrawers. Bella squirmed and writhed, as much as she was able with his weight on her. He found the strings that kept the garment closed and played with the bow there. Edward looked deep into her eyes, silently asking for her approval. Bella nodded her assent and he tugged at the strings, loosening them just enough, then moving away slightly to give her room. Bella reached down and shimmied the fabric away from her legs.

Wanting to savour the experience, Edward took his time. He kissed Bella with all the passion and love in his heart, hoping it would be enough to bring her at least a fraction of the pleasure he felt. Relations had always held a small amount of guilt for him. It seemed so unfair to the female of the species; they just stood or lay there, waiting for it to be over while the male fumbled around their nether regions. Congress with his late wife brought pleasure only to him, and he tried to make it up to her any way he could, but Rachel found the entire thing to be a chore.

Edward had hoped against hope that Bella would be more receptive, and now he knew, for certain, she was. He found places on Bella's body he could touch or kiss that would help her enjoy their time together, her reactions and noises helping lead his way. The soft hollow behind her ear, when kissed, caused a shiver of delight. Her earlobes themselves, when gently bitten or sucked, brought a gasp or whimper of pleasure. The neck, the jaw, the throat, all had their claim for both their enjoyment.

To be allowed unfettered access to Bella's naked chest was pure bliss. Soft breasts and taut nipples to be touched in the flesh—not touched through fabric, but to be thoroughly explored with his eyes and his hands. He wondered if, perhaps one day, she'd allow him to kiss the soft skin of her breast—to put his mouth there, to trace every inch, every divot and slope of this glorious part of her. Her firm nipples felt so lovely in his hand, pressed against his palm or between his fingers, he could only imagine how marvellous they would feel between his lips or against his tongue.

Edward did everything he could to distract his wife, his Bella, from the discomfort of the act he so wanted to engage in with her. By concentrating his efforts on her upper body, he hoped she would ignore what he was about to attempt with the most secret, tender part of her. He did feel fairly certain he wouldn't have to wait for her express permission. With every new, exciting response from her to his attentions, he was sure he would be allowed.

Once Edward knew she was engaged, breathless and flush, he closed his eyes and took himself in hand. He tenderly pressed himself inside her body, hoping she would allow him intimate access. Edward was elated when Bella allowed her knees to fall to the side, showing him she was not only receptive but eager for their lovemaking. Inch-by-inch, he slid inside her, feeling no constriction trying to push him out, only a soft, welcoming warmth engulfing, loving him. Edward forced himself to hold still for a moment before moving as he wished. He was a hungry man, bordering on starvation for this woman; all-consuming was the love he had for her, and it served to fuel his desires. He paused until Bella's fingers loosened their grip on his shoulders. He would try to make the experience as brief and painless as possible for her, but still, he strove to have his own enjoyment.

He felt Bella's hand as it travelled the length of his back, before firmly grabbing his left buttock. His eyes flew open when she touched him and Edward couldn't help but stare down at her in wonder. Her face was awash with bliss. Flushed and dewy, Bella had her bottom lip tucked firmly between her teeth and her moans hadn't lessened. She seemed to not only tolerate the act, but to be enjoying herself as well. Her hands clasped and released him, stroking and soothing his heated skin in a shivery, teasing manner. Edward closed his eyes and gave into delicious sensation.

As he moved slowly forward, she gasped; as he withdrew some, she sighed. After a few moments everything changed—Bella was moving with him, raising her hips to met his as he pushed forward. His breath caught in his throat in a stuttered groan and he looked at her with confusion. He withdrew, thinking he had mistaken her actions somehow. When he pressed forward, she did it again.

"Oh! My word! Bella, what are you doing?" He groaned, barely able to gather the breath necessary to talk. He'd never felt so much at one time. His legs tingled with exertion, his stomach clenched and there was a fierce intensity of heat running down his spine, the strength of which he'd yet experienced.

After a low, long moan, Bella kissed his lips and softly, breathlessly answered.

"Enjoying you."

Arching her hips in response, she drew him in close, raising one leg higher and wrapping it around his thigh. Edward was able to slide deeper within her, and reaching a new intensity, he stuttered an oath he had never before said in the presence of a lady. When Bella moaned the same word a moment later, Edward was lost. His love, his wife was holding him tightly as every muscle of his body sang. His head swam as bursts of light danced beneath his eyelids. His heart galloped in his chest and there wasn't enough air in the world to fill his lungs. He pressed his cheek to her shoulder, burying his face in her neck and gave in to his pleasure, finding his completion.

* * *

Bella lay cocooned under her husband, feeling heady and happy. This joining, finally coming together in making her his wife in every way, far exceeded her imagination and what she had been led to expect. Edward's hands were tender and loving, eliciting pleasures she hadn't expected, his lips and kisses sublime. The pain was nowhere near as severe as what she'd been told to expect. She felt tingly all over, slick and just a bit sore. Tiny jolts of static-laced shocks rolled about her body, concentrating deep within her. Crescendoing, rhythmic pulses that teased and flirted across her skin had started soon after Edward began to thrust and she was delighted; she wanted them to go on forever. She could only imagine how wondrous it would feel if all those little pulses came together in one huge zenith.

Edward's breath was hot on her neck as he lay prone on top of her. Bella held him as tightly as she could, not wanting these luxurious sensations to leave. She felt wanted and loved, delicate and feminine; womanly. She hoped it would never wane, this complex jumble of emotion that winnowed down to one all-encompassing feeling—love.

Wondrously spent, Edward finally raised his head and kissed Bella soundly. He rolled to the side and slid his arm under her neck, hitching the covers over the both of them. He hadn't noticed them sliding off until he started to grow chilled in the night air. He was overjoyed when Bella turned on her side to face him, slowly running her foot up and down his calf. The fact that she still wanted him to touch her and actually sought to touch him, Edward found joyously incredible.

His kisses grew lazy as he tired, his eyes closing for longer and longer periods of time. The events of the day, the anger and the joy, the fight and then finding each other again had tapped the last of his reserves. With Bella tracing her hand across his cheek, humming a gentle tune, Edward gave in to his exhaustion, but not before mumbling once again, ' _I love you, Bella'_.

* * *

Bella watched Edward as he fell asleep. She brushed her fingers over his brow again and again before placing her hand on his chest, taking care to be gentle with the bruising and gash around his eye. She felt his heart beating, a strong, steady rhythm to match her own. He looked so peaceful, even the bruised skin could not detract from his handsome face. The corner of his mouth was curled in a slight grin.

Not wanting to disturb him, she waited until Edward was well and truly asleep before shimmying out of his hold. She didn't really want to leave his embrace. Bella loved the feeling of being held by him, but he was hot and making her feel sticky. After pulling a nightgown from her bag on the floor, she opened the bedroom door for some light. She quickly donned the gown and left the door ajar. Silently, she tiptoed to the kitchen for a drink and a wash. She added a couple of small logs to the fire and waited while the kettle warmed.

Bella paced the kitchen floor, waiting for the water. The muscles in her thighs and rear were stiff, but overall she felt more than content; she felt loved.

As the kettle began to steam, Bella found herself in front of the small looking glass by the door. She stared at her own face for a moment. She didn't think she looked vastly different now than she had earlier in the day. But she felt older, more mature and worldly. Her eyes were a bit brighter, perhaps.

She ran her hand over her cheek and swept her fingers across her lips, remembering kisses and feelings from just an hour before. There were tender patches along her jaw where Edward's beard had rubbed. Bella took a step closer to the mirror and examined the burn marks. There was hardly anything to notice and any traces would be gone by morning.

Her hair was messed around her head with wild curls. She didn't miss the braid or the heft of her long hair at all. There was a newfound kind of freedom in the face staring back at her. There was a certainty as well; she knew she was no longer a servant, and she never would be one again. She was a wife. Edward's wife. Her face beamed with delight.

Bella poured a small bowl of hot water, tempering with cold until it was the perfect temperature for a sponge bath. Wetting a small square of flannel, she pressed it to her face. She drew it across her neck, finding a few more tender places that stung ever so slightly. LIfting her hair from the back of her neck she rid herself of most the the sticky feelings that were keeping her awake.

She rinsed the cloth and lifted up her nightgown to clean between her legs. She could feel her cheeks flush, remembering the feel of Edward between them.

When Bella rinsed the cloth again there was a small streak of blood that tinged the water pink. The loss of her maidenhood was nowhere near as bad as she had been warned. The way the married lady at the camp told it, she expected to be torn in two, screaming in pain and barely clinging to life for lack of blood after her first time. Yes, there had been a few moments of burning pain, but it was more a stinging kind of feeling than a rending-in-two.

Nor had it been a disgusting, arduous task as some of the … more _experienced_ ladies had described it. Bella found her face heating at remembering how she'd felt in Edward's arms. His skin hot against hers; his hands, his mouth. The taste of salt on her tongue. Those peppery little shocks that danced deep inside her as if he were kindling sparks within her.

But it was also not as explosive as she had overheard it could be. A flitting memory entered her mind. At the saloon, there was a woman known as Screaming Martha. Martha could often be heard from the street, enthusiastically hollering in delight when upstairs entertaining a customer.

As a kitchen worker in the cafe just down the street from the saloon, Bella could hear the screams when she was outside at the pump getting water or taking out the scraps. The cafe allowed the whores to buy food solely at noon-time and only through the back door; they weren't even allowed to enter the restaurant. So Bella would listen to them gossip from the protection of the pantry, as her father and the owner had insisted she hide whenever the loose women came by.

The girls would tease Martha, asking if she was faking it. Faking what, Bella didn't know, but she was intrigued. _Poor Martha_ , they would laugh at her when she told them her screams were real and from pleasure. Screaming Martha didn't come to the cafe often; she was always in high demand at the saloon. Bella was forced to leave town shortly after listening to that conversation, otherwise she may have gotten some answers to her questions.

Her quick bath over, Bella tossed the water and hung the cloth to dry. Slipping back into the room, she found Edward in the exact same position she had left him. She had been gone from her husband's side for far too long; she missed him. She eased herself under the covers and into his sleeping arms. Edward pulled her close and mumbled her name before smacking his lips. Trying not to wake him with her laughter, Bella nestled down with her back to him and closed her eyes. Sleep overtook her quickly.

 **AN: A little nod to John Irving's The Hotel New Hampshire.** **This story is loosely based on the film, _Rachel and The Stranger,_ RKO Radio Pictures c. 1948.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	26. Chapter 26

**My thanks to Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77 for their tireless help with this story.**

 **Chapter 26**

Carlisle regretted his choice to take the shoreline path about twenty feet in. A low-hanging branch clipped him on the head and he was forced to dismount. On foot, there was little chance he would be able to catch up with Bella, as her considerable head start stood in his way. His horse, while a fine and loyal steed, walked as slow as molasses in January. The gelding was used to being ridden at a sharp clip, walking steady with a rider, or walking slowly while Carlisle tracked. These were his three speeds and nothing would make him change, not threats nor treats.

Carlisle's footsteps were reduced to picking over loose rocks and roots and that added to the distance between him and Bella. Bella was such a dainty thing, she would have had no trouble navigating this rugged terrain with her delicate steps. He fondly remembered her little feet in comparison to his large ones; he was proud of his very big feet. They provided him with excellent … balance.

Sometimes, at night, he'd dream that Bella was one of those dancing girls she talked about from her past. She'd be wearing just her chemise and a few colourful petticoats with lots of leg and cleavage showing, and he'd wake up stiffer than a fifteen-year-old boy at his first barn dance. He'd have to stop thinking of Bella like that now that she'd picked her side.

As well, the short hair really did give him pause. It just wasn't womanly to have short hair. A man needed a real mane on his woman. There's nothing better than a thick braid to grip onto at times, unless there happened to be two. During the day, those braids are curled up nice and proper, but get them in a bedroom and take 'em down … why, those braids become like reins on a bucking bronco while she rides you to glory. Shit, women with short hair were halfway to being men; soon they'd be wanting to wear pants, drink liquour and vote.

The horse decided to stop for a drink, so rather than get bit by forcing him to move on, Carlisle sat on a fallen log to wait for a spell. If he'd been riding rather than walking, it wouldn't have been a problem. But the horse got right ornery when he walked at times. Carlisle gathered a handful of rocks, tossing them into the lake with a lazy flick of his wrist. He wasn't accustomed to feeling this sort of melancholy, this sadness.

Carlisle always thought himself a happy-go-lucky, genial kind of fellow. But here he was, feeling all-overish and catawamptiously chawed-up from both the fighting, the loss of his best friend and not getting the favour of the girl he wanted. It was all a mighty blow to his ego. Sure, his injuries from the fight would heal, his split lip would mend and his bruises fade, but losing Edward was a terribly bad thing.

He relied on Edward, not just for the companionship and friendship, but because he always made Carlisle feel a bit superior, like a elder brother. But now Edward had gone and kicked him off the farm over Bella. That there was altogether a different thing entirely.

And then there was Bella.

Carlisle had never made such a fool of himself over a woman before. Sure, she was pretty and all, but not worth losing his friendship with Edward. Carlisle didn't know what came over him about her. He'd bedded prettier, more buxom and shapely ladies in his past. He'd been fought over himself, a time or two. He couldn't decide if it was something about Bella, or the fact that Edward had beaten him to her.

He'd taken Edward to task when he found out his naive friend had written away for a bride, and felt justified when Rachel turned out to be a hag in the end. But Bella was nowhere near a hag. It rankled Carlisle that Edward hadn't consulted him again, and this time Edward came away with a lovely bride—a lovely bride he regarded as a lowly servant. So, Edward had himself a horrible wife who should have been treated like a servant, and a wonderful servant he should be treating like a wife.

Carlisle was getting to the crux of the matter. The man he took under his wing—taught everything he knew—managed to get, for himself, not one but _two_ wives and here Carlisle didn't have any. No wife, no children, no house or farm, not a whit of stability. He had nothing to call his own but his horse and his traplines, neither of which would keep a man warm at night.

He tossed a few more rocks before a thought struck him. Carlisle realized he was jealous. He envied Edward. It wasn't necessarily Bella he wanted, but a pretty, clever woman of his own to make a home with. He wanted some pretty young thing to cook his meals and make babies with him; someone to care for him as he aged, but most importantly, someone to warm his bed regularly and with passion.

He had made a fool of himself, ruined his best friendship over a woman for no good reason. For the first time in his life, he felt shame. He had to find Bella and confess his change of heart. More importantly, he had to take her back to Edward and the boys who loved her so. Carlisle threw the rest of the handful of rocks into the water, startling his horse.

The steed lifted his head from drinking and looked over his shoulder at him, letting out a loud fart like he was commenting on Carlisle's thoughts. The beast lowered his head and went back to his drinking, ignoring the man.

When the horse finally had his fill of water, they continued on their walk. Carlisle practised what he might say to Bella to convince her to go back to Edward. His friend deserved a good woman like Bella after all the shit he'd been through and she deserved a hard-working man like Edward. He made that the main thread of his speech.

Carlisle had finished making up his "Bella-convincing speech" in his mind by the time he reached the halfway point of the lake walk. On the shore were the remains of an ancient rock slide from a nearby mountain. Several huge boulders sat at the edge of the lake with a wide avenue of smaller rocks and shorter trees behind them, leading up the mountain face. One of the tribes that lived in the next valley laid claim to this piece of land for their fishing needs, but shared it with the settlers and town, although few of the townsfolk wandered this far to fish.

The swath of land nearby would make for a nice, small spread with a little work; perhaps ten to fifteen acres of arable land within a couple of years. He wouldn't have to fell many trees to clear a nice homestead as there was a large patch of sagebrush and scrubby land in and around the woods.

These valleys were ripe with land like that, not full forest nor full brush either, but a mix of both. Carlisle could just picture laying down roots here. There was enough land for a big kitchen garden, a cow or maybe some sheep and goats, plus a small barnyard. Nowhere near the spread Edward had, but a working, sustainable farm with a small cabin, barn and a few outbuildings. He took a seat on the ground and surveyed the land, plotting and planning. He'd never really sized up a parcel of land before with the mind to settling it for himself.

Carlisle knew he had some pull left with the band elders. He might be able to purchase the land if he offered them easement to the fishing spot they so loved, as well as a promise to maintain a passage for them, as an avenue of sorts. The money he had left from the sale of the boars should just about cover the cost if he agreed to a yearly gift of furs or crops to pad the payment. He reckoned the first order of business, after finding Bella and convincing her to go back home, was to buy some presents for the Chief and his wife; buttering them up a little always helped with negotiations.

He checked his purse for coins to see if he had enough for a few pounds of coffee. The Chief's wife adored coffee and if Carlisle made the wife happy, she'd make the Chief happy. He was surprised to find he had more than enough ready coins. The rest of his cash was buried, divided among three of his favourite hiding spots. Carlisle realised if he was becoming a respectable landowner then he'd have to think of putting his money in the bank from here on out.

In fact, he was going to need a whole lot of things now that he was planning to go respectable. The list he was writing in his mind grew longer and longer. First, get Bella back to Edward, second, go see Chief Black; then he could see to the rest of the items he would need to start a homestead. He hoped he'd be able to sweet-talk his way back into Edward and Bella's good graces 'cause he was going to need their help for certain.

He stood up from his seat on the boulder and looked at his horse. Carlisle hadn't seen or heard the beast turn, but the horse now had his back to the water and was facing the forest off to the left, towards the trail they had been following to town. The fool animal probably heard a snake or something; his ears were cocked and twitchy. Carlisle grabbed the reins and started back on his journey.

The afternoon sun was swallowed by thick forest as they walked. Carlisle began to hear a soft sound, not usual to the woods. It sounded a bit like crying. There were several different birds and other wildlife living in this patch of woods, many of which could sound like crying with their calls, so he paid it little mind. That is, until the crying got louder and more human-sounding.

Carlisle decided that it had to be Bella, lost in the woods and crying over her predicament. He checked his back pocket for a clean handkerchief and called out her name. His voice echoed through the forest, but the crying stopped when he called out. His horse blustered and shook its head. Carlisle called Bella's name again, but continued walking when he didn't get a response.

Several yards further down the path, he thought he heard the crying again. Listening closely, he realized it was human, a female human, and a young one at that. There was a girl crying nearby, and the remnants of gentlemanly sensibilities left in him demanded he lend his aid to a lass in distress.

He looped the reins over a branch and left his horse to graze in the undergrowth. The sound seemed to be coming from a clearing ahead and just off the path. As he looked around, he noticed this clearing was several times bigger than the potential farm he had plotted out down by the lake. This was perfect for a good spread, but there was no way he could afford a prime piece of land like this stretch.

Among a field of brush and wildflowers, Carlisle noticed a flash of bright yellow that stood out, too big to be a bird or flower. But as soon as he spotted it, it disappeared. He walked towards where he had seen it and it popped up again. The closer he got, the more he recognized the shape of what he was tracking. It was a skirt.

There, hiding behind a large bush, was a girl about eight-years-old wearing a pretty yellow dress with a wide blue ribbon tied at the waist. Carlisle gently called out to her, told her his name and offered his assistance. She came out from behind the bush and stared at him, not saying a word. The girl was clean and well cared for, her dress unsoiled and pretty. Her flaxen hair was tied back from her face with a huge white bow and her blue eyes were red from crying.

Carlisle crouched down near her and spoke to her in a quiet voice.

"What are you doing out here, little missy? Are you lost? Are you hurt?"

She didn't answer any of his questions.

"Where are your parents? Your daddy or your mama?"

The girl tilted her head and repeated the word ' _mama'_. Carlisle smiled at her.

He asked again, "Where is your mama?"

The girl grabbed ahold of his hand and pulled him with all her might. She dragged him over behind a small outcropping of rock. There, on the ground, was a woman lying flat on her back. Another child was looming over her, crying her eyes out. She was smaller, younger than the first girl, dark-haired and dressed in pink. The woman was out cold and a stream of blood was drying on her forehead. There was a smear of blood on the rock near her head and as Carlisle looked down her body, he saw her left leg was twisted to the side at an awkward angle. Her wine-coloured dress was dusty, but not torn. One of the girls must have smoothed it out to cover the lady's legs; there were small handprints at the hem. It was a good quality brocade, not the less expensive cotton most women wore around here. This was a fancy, going-to-town-or-church dress a fine lady would wear.

Carlisle put the pieces of the puzzle together. When he first stumbled on the situation, he worried that the mother might have been set upon by some savage. Not a warrior from one of the local bands, but a man who has no respect for womanhood; a beast or criminal from the mines or town.

When he was fifteen, Carlisle killed at man like that, a rapist and murderer. Carlisle was too late to save the young lady who was attacked, but he was in time to shoot the bastard right between the eyes.

Carlisle left home shortly after that to become a trapper; he couldn't live with other people knowing what he had done. The looks the townsfolk gave him were a mix of pride and fear. Both looks rankled at Carlisle—they were proud of him for acting quickly in defense of that poor girl and yet afraid that he might do it again with less cause. It was especially hard for him with his father being the town preacher.

His father didn't believe in killing, no matter the reason or situation. The commandments were strictly enforced and Carlisle had broken the first and most important. It was a unforgivable sin in his father's eyes. Carlisle came to terms with what he had done; he understood his father's beliefs, and tucked it in the very back recesses of his mind. He knew he was already damned, regardless. He saw no need to fret about it.

Looking at the scene behind the rocks, he could see the woman had tripped, turned her leg and hit her head. The girl in yellow knelt down, picked up the woman's hand and began calling her ' _Mama'_. The little girl in pink started shaking the woman's shoulder. Carlisle bent over the lady and looked at her head injury. He took his handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to her forehead to stop the bleeding. Her eyelashes fluttered and she began to moan softly. Carlisle straightened up and handed the handkerchief to the girl in yellow. She looked at it for a moment then pressed it back on her mother's head, taking Carlisle's place.

"I'm going to go get my horse and canteen for your mama. Everything's going to be just fine, don't you ladies worry. I'll get you all back to town and to the doctor, okay?" Both girls just stared at him. He smiled as broadly as he could before jogging away from them.

Carlisle topped up his canteen at the water's edge and then ran back to find the ladies. They hadn't moved and the woman still hadn't awoken, although her moans were much louder.

Carlisle poured a bit of the cool water into his palm and flicked some onto her face to rouse her. It worked. She started and spluttered, and then with her face in a grimace, she spoke.

" _Ay mierda_."

She raised her hand and gingerly touched the cut. She pulled her hand back and opened her eyes to see the blood smeared on her fingers. She looked around, noticing first her youngest daughter, then her eldest, her goddaughter. She gave them a weak smile until her eyes met a strange pair of vivid blue eyes, looking at her hungrily as if she were the only woman in the world.

" _Ay mierda_."

 **AN: Special thanks to Mina Rivera for her expertise for this and the next chapter. I hope you don't mind this little foray into Carlisle's exploits while Edward and Bella were getting it on, they asked for a little alone time. He'll be back next week as well. After we will return to our favourite couple.**

 **Cheers to the lovelies at The Lemonade Stand for the rec.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	27. Chapter 27

**I can not thank Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77 enough for their help and support. Mina Rivera was essential to this chapter with her kind translation and hand-holding.**

 **Chapter 27**

Carlisle gazed down at the injured beauty. He was lovestruck the moment she opened her eyes. He had never seen eyes that striking, the lightest of browns, almost amber and tinged with a darker, ruddy russet near the pupil. But the colour aside, it was the gentle kindness that shone from her eyes as she looked at her girls that really grabbed his focus. The sound of a swear word coming from her delicate mouth was equally attractive to him. He loved women who cursed and showed their emotions, not like those frozen china dolls from town who wouldn't even speak to him.

"Who are you?" She asked, quite angrily.

Carlisle was taken aback and suddenly nervous, he almost dropped his canteen. He laid it to his side, remembering to tighten the cork first. This was not the reaction he had expected for his help in rescuing a damsel in distress. Especially one as beautiful as this glorious creature in front of him. He didn't even know her name or if she was married, but somehow he knew she was fated for him; his one and only love. Whatever faint lingering fondness he had for Bella vanished the moment the lady opened her eyes.

"I'm Carlisle Cullen, ma'am. I heard crying and came to help."

"I'm fine now, thank you." She tried to sit up but cried out in pain.

"I don't believe you are."

He rushed to place his hands under her shoulders to help lift her into a sitting position. The older of the two girls reached for the canteen and loosened the stopper. The lady sniffed at the water before taking the canteen from the girl's hand. She took a small swallow and sighed. A sweet flush of colour bloomed on her face.

The skin of her cheek looked soft, like the petals of a wild rose, and was the warm colour of coffee laced generously with cream. Carlisle wanted to touch her face and see if it was as soft as it looked. He wondered if she tasted of coffee as well. There was Spanish or Native American blood somewhere in her history, a generation ago at the very most. He reckoned she had a grandparent or perhaps two that were full-blooded. He'd have to listen to her speak or hear her name to be able to sort out this mysterious charmer.

She took another drink, this one much larger. She sat up straighter, no longer needing Carlisle's hands for support. Taking a moment to gather herself, she straightened her velveteen bonnet and brushed the dust from her hands. A short lock of caramel-coloured hair slipped out from her bonnet and Carlisle could imagine how silken it would feel to his rough fingertips.

In perfect English, she turned her attention to the younger girl and asked after her welfare. There was the barest hint of a rolling ' _r_ ' and sibilant ' _th_ ' in some of the words she spoke. The younger girl's name was Alicia.

Turning to the elder girl, the lady changed her speech to rapid Spanish, calling the girl ' _Rosalita_ '. Carlisle could only understand a word or two, but listening to her speak, he had a sudden, powerful urge to learn everything about the language. For certain, he could listen to this beauty speak any words, and in any tongue for the rest of his life.

The girls smiled and chattered back to her in both languages. Once she was satisfied with her daughters' safety and happiness, she raised her right hand in offer to shake.

"Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Cullen. I'm Mrs. Evanson. These are my daughters, Alicia and Rosalita."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am. I'd be mighty pleased if you were to call me Carlisle."

Carlisle looked at each of the girls and smiled. They were both very pretty, but night and day to each other. Alicia had dark hair, almost black with wide grey eyes and a hint of coffee tone to her skin. Rosalita was as pale as pale could be with blonde hair and big blue eyes. There was no trace of a familial relationship between the two girls, but it was easy to see features of Mrs. Evanson in Alicia's face. It was another small riddle of this lovely lady he had to figure out.

Mrs. Evanson tried to shift her position and cried out in pain again. She leaned forward and ran her hands down her leg, yelping when she neared her ankle. She raised her skirts a little to reveal the injury. An obvious swelling, just about the top of her walking boot, made Rosalita cry out in sympathy. The toe of the boot was wedged into an opening in the ground by the rocks; most likely the hole was the well-hidden entrance to some small critter's den.

Tears sprang to Mrs. Evanson's eyes. She pulled on her leg but the toe was well wedged in and would not budge. Carlisle stilled her hands by placing his over them gently.

"Shh. There, there. We'll sort you out." He moved to crouch over her ankle and carefully ran his hand around the hole. He reached for the knife he kept on his belt and drew it out of its sheath.

"No! No! What are you doing?" Mrs. Evanson shouted and tried to crawl backwards away from him. She looked terrified and the girls jumped to console her.

"I was just going to widen the hole your boot is stuck in, nothing else. I promise I would never do you harm."

She stared him in the eyes for a long moment before she gave him a nod to continue. Someone had done tremendous harm to this beautiful woman. Bile crept up to Carlisle's throat and he felt murderous. He'd delight in torturing the person who'd hurt her, and exact his revenge with a smile on his face.

Mrs. Evanson hissed in displeasure as he dug, but Carlisle was able to unearth the trapped foot quickly. Even freed, her foot was at a strange angle and Carlisle feared it was broken.

"Did you walk here from town?" Carlisle tried to keep his concern from his voice. He sat back on his haunches and looked at the beauty. The tears had stopped, but the pain was still on her face. He tried to use some gentle questioning to distract her from her suffering and also glean information about the circumstances that led to this calamity. More importantly, he wanted to know all about her, whatever she'd be willing to share.

"Yes, we came for a picnic and to look at some land."

"I bet you're the new schoolmarm people have been talking about in town, right?"

"Yes, that's right."

"And your husband, Mr. Evanson? What does he do while you're teaching?" Carlisle didn't like the man already, so he didn't give a fig what he did; he just wanted the beautiful woman to continue speaking. He hoped she would rest a bit and conserve her energy for the painful ordeal ahead—splinting her leg.

"Dr. Evanson died shortly after Alicia was born."

"Oh my dear, you are far too young and pretty to be a widow." She gave him a weak smile, but he knew she wasn't swallowing his praise.

Carlisle turned to the older girl, Rosalita, and asked if she'd be willing to go get some rope from his saddlebags, as well as find several sturdy, straight, fallen branches from the nearby trees. He used his hands to suggest breadth and length of the branches that would serve as splints. She blinked at him and turned to look at her mother. Mrs. Evanson translated his request for the girl. Rosalita nodded and jogged off.

"How did you get hurt, my dear?"

"Oh, it was nothing. I just slipped."

She tried to play it off with a wave of her hand but Carlisle could tell she was lying. Her eyes slid from his face to look off to the side, to the scrub-brush.

"It was the devil!" the little girl proclaimed. "We were attacked by the devil! And he's still out there!"

Carlisle stifled a laugh. The little thing was dead serious. She looked to be the same age as Jasper, but said more words in one sentence than he'd heard Edward's youngest say on average in a month.

"Ay Alicia, it wasn't the devil. It was a bird. A queer little thing, but it attacked me. It may have been small, but it was frightening. It had these things on its chest, these ... things." Her face turned a brilliant red and she stopped talking suddenly.

Carlisle began to ask what things, but she kept talking.

"It chased us around, and I was helping the girls climb up the rock to escape when it bit me and my foot slipped."

In the meanwhile, Rosalita came back with three long, smooth branches about an inch thick and two feet long. She dropped them beside Carlisle and went to the horse for the rope, standing on her very tiptoes to reach into the saddlebags.

"Mrs. Evanson, I'm going to have to hike your skirt up and touch your leg." Carlisle looked at her sheepishly.

"I understand, Carlisle. Please call me Esme. If you are going to be under my skirts, perhaps you should call me by my name."

"And it's a very pretty one at that. Well-suited to you."

"It's a nickname, actually. My name is too long and complicated for most people; it seemed easier for me to shorten it rather than have to suffer through mispronunciations. My mother still calls me by my given names—all of them, when she is angry."

She gave him such a funny little smile, he just had to hear more.

"Please, do tell," Carlisle asked while, as gently as he could, raising her leg to slide the rope under.

"I am Esperanza María Miranda Mariposa Platt de Evanson" she rattled off quickly. She laughed at the look on his face as he tried to puzzle it out.

"Platt doesn't seem to go with the rest of it."

"Platt is my father's name. He came over from England and fell in love with Mama. My _abuela_ married an Englishman too, back in Ecuador, and they moved up to the New Mexico Territory. That's where we came from, my girls and I."

"And you carried on the tradition by marrying Dr. Evanson?" He glanced at her and tried to smile encouragingly. He was going to have to start tying the splint and it would hurt a great deal. He really didn't want to cause such a lovely lady any more pain.

She gave him a very curt nod and didn't say anything more about Dr. Evanson.

"Girls, I was hoping you could both go and refill the canteen. Your Mama is going to need more water. Would you go together to get it?"

He spoke to Alicia but held the canteen out to Rosalita. Alicia jumped up and took hold of Rosalita's hand. He waited for them to walk away before explaining to Esme.

"It will be painful when I tie the splint, I didn't want to scare them and I didn't want you to have to lie to them. This way you can cry out and they won't know."

Esme regarded him in wonder.

"That was very considerate of you. Thank you." She place her hand on his arm.

It was Carlisle's turn to blush. Her hand scorched a trail of fire up his arm. Tendrils of heat made their way to his brain, his heart and his groin. He struggled to tamp down the urge to unleash his charms on Esme, to flirt with gay abandon like he usually did with pretty women, and instead forced himself to focus only on helping her. As soon as she was better, though …

Carlisle seldom had cause to rein himself in like this, he was a man of pleasure and proud of it. To care for another's needs above his own desires was perplexing, but a not-too-unpleasant feeling.

Carlisle tied a knot at the base of Esme's foot and slid two of the sticks on either side of her ankle. With another length of rope he tied another knot just under her knee. He took a moment to really examine her leg.

Although completely covered in a thick stocking, it was the most beautifully shaped leg he had ever seen. He longed to run his hand along the curve of it, across her calf and down to her delicate ankle. Once he started picturing kissing the arch of her foot and perhaps even her toes, he had to clear his throat and swallow to stop himself from pouncing on her like a duck on a junebug.

The basics of the splint in place, Carlisle began to tie knots down the length of her leg every few inches. The nearer he got to the main injury, the more pain she was in. Esme was strong—she didn't cry out or complain—but he could see the pinched look on her face and the beginnings of tears in her eyes. Seeing her cry, seeing her in pain, damn near broke his heart. It almost made him wish he could cry in sympathy for her, although he hadn't cried in decades, not since he left his mother. Weren't manly to cry, he knew that.

"Tell me again how this happened. Talk to me about the devil bird, Esme", he demanded, determined to keep her attention away from the pain. The next few knots would be the worst, and he still had another stick to slide under the splint to complete it. For that, she'd have to raise her leg and the pain would be horrible for her. And for him.

Esme groaned, but spoke anyway, almost thankful for the distraction.

"It was a sharp little thing—not much smaller than a chicken with a light-coloured front and dark neck. The feathers grew darker closer to the tail. I walked by it, thinking it would run off, but it charged at me. It squawked and fanned its tail. The little beast keep charging at me, again and again. I don't like to hurt animals, but I just had to kick at it. Nothing I did seemed to deter it. Then it started doing this odd, disgusting thing. My poor girls were so frightened." Esme stopped speaking to yelp in pain as Carlisle tightened the strapping of her splint.

"Almost finished, darling." Carlisle soothed without knowing what he had let slip. She could only blink her eyes in response.

"The bird started to dance and preen around me, pecking at my feet and then running back. It stopped and stood still for a moment. Then … then these … things came out of it's chest. These sacks like _pelotas_." She pressed her lips to a thin line.

Carlisle didn't know this word, _pelotas_. His Spanish was very limited and this wasn't a word he had encountered before.

"Come again?"

" _Chichis_?" Esme squeaked, clearly embarrassed. Carlisle shook his head.

"Um … like …" and she waved at the general direction of Carlisle's crotch.

"Like _what_?" It was Carlisle's turn to squeak.

In a harsh whisper she answered, " _cojones_ " as if the word itself disgusted her. He had heard this one before and not in respectable company.

Carlisle tried to hold it in; he tried his best, but he had to laugh. He knew the bird in question, the sage-grouse. Its mating dance was comical but vulgar. He tied the last knot and moved so he was crouching on the balls of his feet beside her legs before he reached for the final stick.

"It kept bouncing those things up and down and shaking its tail. It was vile. I was afraid for the girls. They are too young to see something like that, something so … _naughty_."

Carlisle burst into hysterical laughter and fell back on his ass. Esme held her hand to her mouth trying to keep from laughing herself. It didn't work and soon she was laughing alongside him.

Once he calmed himself, Carlisle explained the bird was a male sage-grouse. He told her how, when the males are trying to get at mating, they puff out their chests, displaying air sacks to attract a mate. They bounce them up and smack them together, making a noise that garners the attention of the females. The bird that attacked them was probably a juvenile and mistook her for an interested female. The confused grouse must have wandered away from its home, its lek, and mistaken the scrub for a new nest. Carlisle pointed out that it was well outside of mating season, so the poor thing was very confused, but obviously completely smitten with her.

"After all, who wouldn't fall in love with you at first sight, my dear? You're beautiful." Carlisle tried to lay on the charm. Esme gave him a doubtful look, but thanked him regardless.

The girls came back just as Carlisle was helping Esme to her feet. Even with the splint, there was no way Esme could walk back to town. He arranged the girls on the back of his horse and picked up the protesting Esme.

"You're as light as a feather, Esme. Besides, now that I have you in my arms, I'm not letting you go. I've seen to it that I'm in your favour. If all goes well, the town gossips will see their new school marm like this and you'll be forced to marry me to save your reputation. It's all part of the grand design, my darling. In fact, I owe that prairie-chicken a large worm."

Esme smiled at his foolishness.

"If _I_ see that bird again, I'm _cooking_ him, _cojones_ and all."

 **AN: If you haven't, please take a moment and look up the sage-grouse's mating dance. It's hilarious.**

 **Translations - pelotas = balls, chichis = boobies, and cojones = testicles.**

 **We'll hear more from Carlisle, Esme and the girls later. We're back on the farm with Edward and Bella next.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	28. Chapter 28

**A multitude of thanks would not suffice as gratitude for the wonderful women who help me make this story better. Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc, and IpsitaC77, I adore you.**

 **Chapter 28**

Weak sun streamed through the windows, finding gaps in the curtains and hitting Edward in the eye. He was tempted to just roll over and go back to sleep when the rooster began crowing. He flopped onto his back and stretched his legs, then, reaching down, gave his testicles a very welcomed 'good morning' scratch. It was the customary beginning to his daily routine. A routine that was suddenly disrupted by the warm, soft body he encountered when he made to roll out of the bed. Delightful memories of the night before came flooding into Edward's brain and he was instantly aroused. Instantly and painfully aroused, as he had to make water as well and was torn between which was a more pressing bodily need.

Bella shifted in her sleep as he got out of bed. Edward watched her eyes flutter before she sighed and nestled further into the quilts. He gently moved a strand of hair that was caught on her lips. She looked so lovely—he just wanted to crawl back into bed and lie with her for hours on end. But the ache in his bladder and the fact that he wondered if she'd even be willing to engage in lovemaking again forced him to get up.

Edward pulled on his trousers and grabbed a thick sweater. Slipping his boots on at the door, he jogged to the outhouse. The cool fall air caused his erection to quickly deflate. With a groan of relief once positioned in the outhouse, Edward's mind began to wander back to his bed and his glorious, beautiful, sweet wife. Rachel hadn't allowed relations for six weeks after their first time. Bella was so different from her; still, he was hesitant to ask when she might want to indulge him in relations again. He knew for damn sure he wasn't going to mention Rachel or the six weeks to her. He'd learned that lesson well.

He walked back to the house with a spring in his step and the sudden desire to whistle a tune. The rooster crowed again as Edward reached the porch. It was time for him to get dressed and be ready to milk the cows. On his way back to the bedroom, Edward paused to add a few logs to the fire and set the kettle to boil, giving Bella a few more minutes rest by starting her chores.

Bella was still all tucked up and sleeping. Edward leaned over and ran his cold nose along her cheek. She groaned and moved her head away. He did it again, and a smile crept across her face. He did it a third time.

"If this is how you plan to wake me up everyday, I'm going back to the loft, Edward Masen." Bella grumbled from under the covers.

"It's time to get up, sweetheart. Time to get to work."

"I know, but I don't want to."

Edward laughed as he found clean underwear and a fresh shirt. When he was properly dressed for the day, Edward sat on the bed beside her, pulling up his suspenders. He smiled down at her dozy face.

"I'll be back with fresh milk and eggs. You rest a bit more, alright?"

When Bella nodded, he began to rise. She shot her hand out from under the blankets and grabbed him by the suspenders, causing him to fall back down onto the bed, landing on top of her.

"Don't I get a morning kiss?"

She looked too sleep-rumpled to be coquettish. Edward grinned and gave her a quick peck on the cheek in response.

"No, not until I've cleaned my mouth."

Bella held her hand over her mouth with a look of mock horror and laughed as Edward left the room.

Edward did his chores as quickly as he could. He brushed his teeth and washed his face, using a bowl of water from the rain barrel behind the barn. The cold water bit at his split knuckles, but felt marvelous on his bruised face. It was too cold outside for him to strip down for any other bathing. He checked his beard, scrubbing his hand across the sharp hairs and decided he could go another day without shaving. Edward eagerly hoped he could ask Bella to do it for him, and wanted his beard to be good and thick to make the experience last. It had been so wretchedly painful watching her shave Carlisle, Edward could just imagine the pure thrill, the pleasure there might be if he was the one being shaved.

As he tromped across the farmyard, Edward gave a brief thought as to what might have happened to his former friend. Carlisle hadn't returned from his search for Bella. Edward didn't pay it much mind; if anyone could survive in the wild, it was Carlisle. Some distance might be just the thing towards fixing their friendship. It all hinged on whether the bastard grovelled enough–if and when he returned.

The chickens gave him no trouble and the cows were quick to give up their milk. Edward stashed most of the milk in the springhouse, bringing the eggs and a large jug into the house.

Bella was standing at the stove, swaying back and forth, as if there were music playing only she could hear. He placed the small basket of eggs on the table and the milk by the sink. Feeling overcome with love at the sight of her and comfortable enough to be bold, Edward walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. When she didn't complain or push him away, he was encouraged enough to kiss her neck. Bella let go of the wooden spoon she'd been holding and covered his hands with hers. She hummed a sweet note of enjoyment.

Edward started to sway with her. Nibbling her ear and nuzzling her neck elicited light happy sounds from Bella—soft whimpers and more humming. He could feel the smile on her face as he held his cheek to hers. If the oatmeal hadn't begun to bubble, Edward would have spun her around and kissed her soundly. Instead, he enjoyed the feel of her stirring their breakfast, just holding her in his arms.

They stayed that way, engaged in their shared dreamy moment, until Jasper emerged from his room followed by Emmett. Emmett smiled and shouted a " _Good morning!_ " as he bolted past them and out the door, on his way to the outhouse.

Emmett had recently declared chamber pots were for babies and real men use the outhouse, no matter what the weather. Edward was waiting until the first really big snowfall of the season to remind him of his edict. Jasper must have used his before he came out of the room, otherwise he would have done his little pee-pee dance and asked Papa to take him outside to relieve himself. The tyke was too young to be in the outhouse unattended and couldn't manage holding his skirts up and peeing straight at the same time.

"Is-Bella!" Jasper threw himself at her legs, giving her a big hug. Seeing his baby cling to her, with all the love and adoration a three-year-old could muster, did his heart a turn and filled it to bursting. Edward reached down and picked up his boy. He tucked Jasper under his arm and they sat down at the table. Jasper rested his head on his father's chest and together, they watched Bella cook; Edward stroking his hand over Jasper's back in slow circles.

Emmett returned, looking satisfied. He sat in his usual spot and waited for his breakfast, as if today were just like any other day.

Bella handed out bowls of warm porridge and cream to them, and went back to the stove for sausage. Placing one hand on Edward's shoulder, she leaned over him and slid the platter of sausages in front of his place. Her hand tickled his ear as she moved around him. She picked up Jasper and lowered him into his chair before taking her own seat. It was a seamless dance of gentle steps with an effortless grace of swirling skirts.

In between spoonfuls of her own breakfast, Bella helped Jasper with his oatmeal and cut his sausage into tiny pieces. Emmett crammed as much in his mouth as he could before swallowing. Edward took a look around the table with love and pride. This was all he'd ever wanted from life, here, in front of him.

His eldest son caught his eye and grinned back at him.

"Papa?" Emmett asked with his mouth still showing traces of chewed oatmeal at the corners. "Are you going to be kissing on Bella a lot now?"

Edward coughed into his coffee, thankful he hadn't yet taken a sip. He looked panicked at Bella, but she blushed and ducked her head, pretending to be too busy with Jasper to answer.

"Well son, I'd like to if I have time, yes. As long as Bella will allow me kiss her." Edward stuttered his answer, his ears turning crimson with embarrassment.

"So, girls like kisses then?" Emmett licked at the back of his spoon and ran his tongue around his lips as a means of cleaning his face. Bella passed him a napkin and gave him a wink.

"Yes, I think they do. Why do you ask?"

Emmett took another massive spoonful of oatmeal before answering. He was too hungry to wait for the end of the conversation he'd started.

"You said we could go to town for my birthday. You know I'm turning seven next week. I just wanted to know, in case I met a girl in town."

"My boy, if you meet a girl in town there'll be no kissing." Edward thumped his hand on the table, not in anger, but to keep himself from laughing at his eldest boy.

"What? Why not?"

"Seven-year-olds don't go around kissing girls, that's why."

"Well, how old do I gotta be?" Emmett jabbed his spoon in to his empty bowl.

Bella excused herself from the table to make more coffee and to laugh in silence, her back to them. Edward glanced at her and saw her shoulders shaking

"Seventeen." Edward stated with authority.

" _Seventeen_? That's near twenty years from now; that's not fair, Papa." A pout formed on Emmett's mouth.

"I'm sorry, that's the law, Emmett. The sheriff says so."

"Is that true, Bella? Do I have to wait until I'm seventeen? That's forever from now." Bella nodded, not trusting her voice to answer.

"How old were you when you first kissed a girl, Papa?"

Edward cleared his throat and caught Bella's eye when she turned to face him. She smiled and nodded in encouragement.

"I first kissed your mama when I was twenty-one. But I was married to her first."

"Anyone want more breakfast?" Bella finally decided to rescue Edward, and succeeded in capturing Emmett's attention by spooning a generous dollop into his bowl. She poured her husband more coffee and took his bowl to the sink.

"Is-Bella? Are you old?" Jasper piped up.

"I'm twenty years old." Bella indulged him with a big smile.

"You old enough." He nodded solemnly as if he was giving her his permission. Jasper speared his last piece of sausage almost violently, as if he'd been giving it chase and finally caught it. Edward swallowed a laugh with his coffee.

The boys ran off to get dressed for the day as Bella tidied up the breakfast dishes. Edward finished his coffee, staring into the distance and seemingly lost in thought. He didn't notice as they ran through the house, calling out their intention to go see the puppies.

"Bella? When was your birthday?"

She dried her hands on her apron after finishing the last dish. She leaned her back against the counter.

"Oh, it must be about two weeks ago, I think."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"It's not important, Edward. It's just another day."

"You're important, Bella. I want to make sure you know that—that you're very important. Not only to me, but to all of us." He stood and walked over to her, taking her in his arms.

Edward kissed her gently at first, but his hunger for her grew the longer they were pressed together. Stopping just short of picking Bella up and carrying her back to their room, he paused for breath, pressing his forehead against hers.

"Last night … I never knew anything could be as wonderful as that. I love you, Bella."

"I love you too, Edward."

The boys came back from the barn, complaining that the puppies were sleeping and not game for playing. Edward managed to wrench himself from Bella, needing to get some work done in the barn. He would have much preferred to spend the day in her embrace, but work on a farm was never completely finished. He kept Emmett with him as a helper.

Jasper stuck to Bella's side like a burr. She was happy to keep him near her if it soothed him. She knew he needed the love and affection to prove she wasn't leaving him again. Bella made a game of dancing in and out of his grasp like a game of tag. Jasper took his nap in her arms as they rocked on the front porch, his need for her taking precedence over laundry or mending. The sweet boy woke with a smile on his face.

* * *

When he finished his chores, Edward found the wood scraps he needed to make Emmett's birthday present. He'd been mulling it over for a few days, the design and construction plans for a miniature covered wagon, much like the one his own parents travelled in when they crossed the country. This was long before Edward was born; his parents were children themselves, but he'd heard the tales of the journey and hardships his whole life.

He had already carved the horse team out of scraps from a strong ponderosa pine he'd felled for firewood. They needed a lick of paint and Edward wondered if he could ask Bella to paint them for him. She had a steadier hand and more nimble fingers. A couple of good supple twigs could be formed into place as the ribs, and Bella could sew the canvas cover. The wagon itself would take no time, but carving the wheels would be tricky; he still had a week to work that part out.

* * *

The scent of rich, roasted pork greeted Edward as he walked towards the house. The sound of his boys' laughter meet him at the bottom of the porch. He ran up the steps, beyond eager to be with his family.

Bella was holding Jasper's hands tightly in hers, her arms spread wide. She was crouching a bit as if she was about to sit on an invisible chair. Edward watched, highly amused, as Jasper place one foot and then the other on her legs, climbing up her body to her hips where he flipped over backwards in a somersault, twirling in Bella's grasp as she straightened up. Emmett jumped up and down, cheering. On the table was a picture book with drawings of dancers and acrobats. There were pictures of a lady high up on a wire with a parasol, and of people standing upside down on their hands and some standing up, all while riding horses.

The boys came bounding over to him, both speaking at the same time trying to tell him about their day and the fun new game Bella showed them. Edward nearly burst with pride as he kissed his smiling wife and ruffled Emmett's hair.

* * *

A toothsome hot meal served by his beautiful wife and a good cup of tea had him feeling like a king. As Bella cleaned up from dinner, Emmett tugged on his hand and made him stand in the middle of the room.

"Papa, I'm going to play acrobats on you. Mumby said I was too big to play on her and had to wait until you were done eatin'."

Edward looked at Bella and asked, " _Mumby_?" with a grin.

"They asked what I called my mother and then they added a 'b'. I like it." She blushed.

"All right then, _Mumby_ , show me how to do this acrobat dance."

Bella explained to Edward how to stand and what to do. Emmett delighted in flipping over and over again while using his father as a springboard. Jasper took a turn with Papa as well, but declared that Mumby did it better and then dragged her over to demonstrate. Emmett laughed so hard at Jasper that his foot slipped while he was climbing Papa, kicking him right between the legs. The game had to stop then; Edward had to sit for a few moments to catch his breath.

Bella readied the boys for bed and tucked them in with kisses. Edward watched from the doorway, overjoyed, grateful for how his life had changed so much for the better.

 **AN: Victorian toddlers wore dresses, boys and girls. It was just easier for toileting and reusing. Infant mortality was so poor, some babies didn't get names until they were three or four and had survived, they were just called Baby. But this is fiction, we get to keep the cute aspects of the past like the image of Jasper with messy blond curls in a sweet white dress, and leave out scurvy, diphtheria and other discomforts.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	29. Chapter 29

**This week google-docs failed and this site was still acting up by not sending out alerts or reviews. I honestly didn't think this chapter would be ready for publishing. However, due to the tireless efforts of Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77, here we are.**

 **Chapter 29**

Bella closed the door to the boys' bedroom and held out her hand for her husband.

"Take me to bed, Edward." She smiled shyly at him as he leaned in for a kiss.

With a grin, he took Bella's proffered hand and followed her into their room. His eyes followed her as she moved around the room, closing the curtains, lighting the lamps at the bedside, pulling back the bedclothes.

When Bella began to undo her blouse buttons, Edward sat on the bed and watched, mesmerized. It was a delightfully teasing dance as she slid her skirt off and let it drop to the floor. Bella shrugged out of the bodice and bent down to pick up the skirt, giving both a firm shake before hanging them in the wardrobe. The sound of the fabric snapping drew him out of his daydream of her performing the same dance, but this time facing him. Her petticoat was next; it was folded and placed in the dresser drawer Bella had claimed as hers earlier in the day.

Edward had never seen as lovely or erotic a display as Bella readying herself for bed. Her chemise was dropped in a basket to the side of the wardrobe for laundering. Much to his consternation, Bella slipped her nightgown over her head before he could get a good, long look at her naked breasts. As it was, he was only rewarded with a brief glimpse of the rounded side of one of her breasts. Her stockings and drawers were eased off under the gown and also put to laundry. She turned to him and smiled.

"Aren't you going to change for bed, Edward?"

"Oh, of course." He jumped up and tore at his clothes, taking them off quickly and with much less grace than she did. He grabbed his nightshirt from a peg on the wall behind the bedroom door. The thick flannelette caught on the rough skin of his fingers and torn knuckles of his hand as he slid it over his head. Once clothed in his nightshirt, he joined her under the covers.

In his haste to disrobe, Edward missed the last few seconds of her nightly routine. She was standing, peering into the small looking glass and brushing out her hair. All day, Bella's hair had been swept back from her face with a comb. Her severed braid was still in the springhouse; he had it well-hidden in case she stumbled upon it and was reminded of her hasty decision to cut it off.

Edward thought about taking it to town when they went in a few days' time. They had several errands to run, supplies to buy, but he wanted to add one more task if he could sneak it in. He wanted to see if he could sell the braid to a wigmaker—he had an idea what he could buy with the money. He pushed his plans to the back of his mind to cuddle up with his wife instead.

Bella nestled into his chest with her ear on his heart, listening to its steady drum, the rhythm comforting her. Her fingers toyed with the buttons of his nightshirt and played with the thick red flannelette of the placket. Her cotton gown seemed so thin in comparison to his and she was cold. As she lay on her side, Bella raised her knees up and pressed her toes into Edward's leg, stealing his heat. He yelped in surprise, but didn't try move his legs away from her.

"Why are you so cold, honey?" He tucked her in his arms, reaching around her as best he could with her knees pressed against his thighs.

"Perhaps you need to warm me up again, husband."

"Again?" Edward said with unabashed delight.

"Well, unless Emmett kicked you _too_ hard," Bella teased him as her hand slowly ran down his stomach. She stopped just below his navel, causing him to pout, much like Emmett when he's refused dessert.

"No, I'm fine. Everything is in working order." Edward didn't even try to hide his eagerness.

Bella lifted her chin and kissed his throat. He tightened his arms around her, sliding himself down the bed, giving her better access to kiss him in return. Bella leaned over Edward's chest, bringing one hand up to caress his cheek and play with the fine hairs at his temple. As the kiss grew in intensity, she shimmied her body around until she was lying on top of him with her knees on either side of his waist. She could feel Edward, hard and pressing against her bottom. Propping herself up on her hands, Bella pulled away from a kiss to gaze at him.

She regarded him for so long—her eyes travelling from his eyes to his lips, his ear to his nose—Edward began to wonder what she was thinking. Bella kissed his lips gently, as soft as a whisper, and pushed herself up to sit astride him. The muscles of his stomach clenched in anticipation of her next move. The tense want and waiting was driving him to distraction, but he refused to listen to the screaming voice in his head saying _take_ , _rut_ , _claim_ , _possess_.

Exacting a slow torture, Bella released the buttons of his nightshirt, one-by-one, from his sternum to his navel. Raising herself up on her knees, she reached for the hem of her nightgown. Edward held his breath as Bella's movements revealed her body to him, inch by glorious inch. His fingers gripped her hips, clutching tight to the supple flesh. Bella leaned down and kissed him hard. Her thighs gripped his sides as she sat upright again, throwing him a smirk as a slow, ragged groan escaped him.

With a look of shy, but determined curiosity, Bella placed both hands on Edward's chest. She smoothed her hands along his collarbone and over his shoulders, as far as his nightshirt would allow before running them back to his neck. Down his throat to the middle of his chest and across his ribs was the next path her hands followed. Edward writhed a little as her fingers pressed into his sides. As if she were making notes or taking an inventory, Bella varied the pressure of her fingers until Edward laughed from her tickling and thorough exploration. She leaned down and kissed him again.

Letting her nails trail along his skin, Bella brought her hands to the middle of his chest once more. This time, Bella let her fingers circle around his nipples, feeling his skin tighten under her touch. Her eyes met his. Torturously slow, she slipped the tip of her tongue from her mouth and drew her finger along it. Bella ran the wet finger over his nipple and bowed her head to gently blow cool air across it, causing Edward to buck his hips in response to the agonizingly wonderful feelings she was bringing out for him.

She repeated the move with the same finger, teasing the other nipple. His reaction was stronger this time, and he couldn't help but let out a deep groan. Bella leaned down and kissed him once more; a sweet, lingering kiss that soothed and reposed him somewhat.

When Bella raised up on her knees once more, Edward grew concerned. He was afraid she was done with her teasing and playing, but Bella proved him wrong.

Bella shuffled her legs back and sat lower on Edward's body, trapping his erection between her and the thick red flannelette. She leaned down, taking his nipple in her mouth and, with the tip of her tongue, began flicking at it. Edward's hands flew off her waist and smacked down hard on the bed, so strangely new and fantastic were the sensations coursing through him. Bella repeated the action to the nipple on other side of his chest. His hips jerked so forcefully, she nearly toppled to the side of him. He'd had enough of her teasing.

Edward sat up and encased Bella in his arms. He flipped their positions so he was now looming over her—his eyes wild, like a caged animal finally freed. He wanted to devour her, to consume her. He held himself up, arms locked straight and kissed Bella as gently as he could, holding back his true hunger lest he frighten her. It took a great deal of effort for Edward to restrain himself, but he knew the cost would not be without ample repayment. He knew enough to treat Bella like the treasure she was and would always continue to be in his life.

He repeated every step, every touch she did to him when she was in control, but at a far quicker pace. Edward was frantic in his loving of her body—as if she'd slip away from him at any second. His prey was pinned down and he wasn't going to let her escape his clutches until all his wants were satisfied.

The feel of Bella's breast in his mouth was beyond everything he had dreamt. Her nipple, now dark pink and firm, felt like sin against his tongue. The more he sucked and licked, the more he could feel her hips move in concert. Bella's hands raked down his back, encouraging and coaxing him. Edward pressed his hips against hers as hard as he dared.

Bella arched her back and then raised her legs to fold around his thighs. Her hand travelled down his back and she grabbed ahold of his buttock. He groaned at the feel, then lost all control of his breath when she pushed him impossibly closer. She began to tug at his nightshirt as it was still trapped between them. Edward rose to his knees and reaching his hand behind his neck, grabbed the garment and wrenched it from his body. Within seconds he was inside her, loving her and feeling her loving him in return

They moved together as one, letting instinct rule them—gone were the tentative, nervous touches. Hands and fingers fondled with the purpose of giving or gaining pleasure, and lips caressed sweet skin, tongues darting out to savour. It was as simple and pure a dance as the one they found themselves in that morning, swaying at the stove. They seemed to find rhythm together in the other's arms.

Feeling daring and bold, Edward reached his hand around Bella's leg and grasped under her knee. Gently and carefully, he lifted the limb and repositioned it so her knee was up and away from her body. He placed his hand, palm flat on the bed, so that her leg was braced open, her calf resting against his elbow. The change in intensity and angle caused both of them to shudder in delight.

Edward groaned with pleasure as Bella dug her fingernails into his lower back. His head had fallen, claiming a share of the pillow she rested on, as his movements became frenzied and shallow. Bella could feel the fluttering of new yearning sensations, both deep within her and also where they were joined. Chasing the delicious feeling, her moans took on a new, higher pitch until Edward collapsed against her. Her leg slowly slid back down onto the bed as his arm fell slack to his side. She had not quite reached the end of those marvellous sensations, but had a much better grasp on what she was seeking. She was struck with wonder at the idea that there could possibly be more pleasure than she already felt while in the embrace of her husband.

Satiated and drunk on the emotions coursing through him, Edward pressed his face to her neck and tenderly ran his tongue up to the soft hollow behind her ear. This was his favourite place in the entire world—to be in Bella's arms, weakened and slick with sex, and listening to her heartbeat thunder just for him. Here, he would gladly spend the rest of his life. With his arms trembling, he pulled himself up to look into the eyes of his wife and professed his love to her.

* * *

Bella slept so well, so thoroughly that the crow of a rooster brought a smile to her face for the first time in her life. Beside her, her husband was dead to the world. She listened as the morning bird crowed again and looking over the bed, was amused to see there wasn't even a twitch of recognition from Edward. Bella wasn't surprised, they'd stayed up well into the night and Edward was an energetic and enthusiastic lover, well, as far as she knew. He tired her out for certain. She slipped out of bed and into her nightgown without him moving a single muscle.

As soon as Bella was finished in the outhouse, she fed the chickens to silence the rooster. There was a decidedly cruel nip of cold in the air. Summer was over and autumn was well at hand. This made Bella nervous for there was much left to be done before the snow came.

While she felt prepared for winter with the provisions she had managed to store, there was still nagging doubt regarding staples and variety of meals. She would have the three of them underfoot and hungry for several months at a time. Emmett had a hollow leg and Jasper was a good eater as well, just like his father. Bella worried that everything she'd put up would run out before spring or they'd get bored of an endless diet of stews.

A happy thought came upon her as she began to tend the fire. Tomorrow, or the next day, they planned to go to town, She would see if there were any spices or herbs to flavour her menus for the coming winter months, either along the roadside or from the general store. There was plenty of dill, mint and sage left from the garden and the rosemary was still producing. Bella made a mental note to ask Edward if he knew of any local wild herbs or flowers that were edible. If he didn't, she might explore the area a bit; maybe take the boys on a nature walk and see what they might find.

Bella retrieved the griddle cake batter she had made the night before from the cold storage area in the cellar. The cornmeal mixture always worked better if it could sit for a day or so. Topped generously with sweet applesauce, the warm buttery cakes made a perfect breakfast on a cold morning. She poured Edward a cup of coffee and brought it into their bedroom. While he had woken her with a cold nose, she decided to be kinder to her husband. She left the coffee on his bedside table and threw open the curtain, bathing the room with bright light.

Taking little care in regards to the noise she was making, Bella got dressed and ready for the day. Edward finally began to stir when she sat down on the bed to pull on her stockings, the last item of clothing she needed.

Edward opened his eyes when he felt Bella perch on the bed, her hip narrowly missing his erection. The sight that greeted him was of her partially naked leg held outstretched as she tied the stocking to her drawers. It was the same leg he had propped over his arm last night and he groaned with the memory.

"Such a lovely morning sight, my wife."

"I brought you a cup of coffee, husband. Breakfast will be ready by-and-by. It's time to start the day." Bella finished tying the other stocking and leaned in for a chaste kiss. She had cleaned her mouth but he had not and while she loved him, he smelled rank that morning.

"I have little work today and I was wondering if you would do something for me? Something I had in mind all day yesterday."

Bella smiled at him, a naughty kind of knowing smile. Edward had rolled onto his back and there was a bulge in the blankets halfway down his body. She leaned over him, placing one hand on the bed near his waist; her other hand trailing her fingers across his neck, tapping out a short tattoo on his collarbone.

Her voice was husky and quiet when she asked, "What did you have in mind, Edward?"

The bulge under the covers grew and Edward's eyes glazed over. He cleared his throat and swallowed before answering.

"Um...I was hoping you would give me a shave?"

 **AN: Thank you for reading.**


	30. Chapter 30

**My heartfelt thanks to Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77 for their kind help with this chapter.**

 **Chapter 30**

Edward sat on the porch in the kitchen chair, his knee bouncing up and down with nervous excitement. Bella was in the kitchen, warming some water for his shave, and the boys were off fishing by the creek. Emmett was charged with looking after his brother. Edward didn't expect them to catch anything but dirt. Leah followed them down to the creek, but returned quickly—she didn't like to leave any of her babies for long, be they human or canine.

Bella had prepared a lunch and as soon as they were finished with Edward's shave, they would head out to find the boys. However, secretly he hoped the pleasure of her grooming him would be drawn out so he could savour every moment under her care.

Listening to each step Bella took in the kitchen increased Edward's nerves tenfold. By the time she showed up, bowl in hand and shaving kit tucked under her arm, he was wound tighter than a pocket watch. He leapt up and scrambled to rid himself of his shirt. As he struggled with the cuffs, Bella laid her hands over his, stopping him.

"Just open is fine, Edward. It's too chilly out to take it off completely."

He nodded, and drawing a deep breath to calm himself, lowered himself onto the chair and waited for her to start.

Bella opened the kit, and after giving the digit a lick, tested the blade with her thumb. Edward kept it in good repair, well-oiled and well-sharpened. This knowledge made her smile; he took care of his things—his possessions, his work, his family and now, his wife. She kissed the side of his head before she turned to wring out the hot towel for his face, letting the excess water dribble back into the bowl. She wound the towel around his face, first across his eyes and forehead to relax him. Then she laid the rest of it across his jaw and chin to soften his beard, resulting in the two ends of hot fabric meeting again at his brow. She left a small opening so he could breathe, allowing his nose to be uncovered, but not unkissed.

While they waited for his beard to soften, Bella found a good thick comb in the kit and tried to tame his hair; it was filled with sawdust from his morning's work. It was such a comforting feeling. Having her tend to his hair was not as erotic as he thought it would be, perhaps that was in the watching of the shaving process and not as much in the being shaved. It was more an all-encompassing feeling of being cared for and loved by her that warmed him from crown to heel.

As she stirred the shaving soap into a lather, Edward, in a muffled voice told her about the covered wagon he was making for Emmett's birthday present. He offered to show it to her on their way to the creek, so she could judge how much cloth was needed for the canopy. He asked if she could paint it for Emmett.

Bella agreed in an instant to painting the wooden horses. As she removed the hot towel and lathered his face, she told him about the art lessons she had taken as a child. The lessons were not successful, but she could easily add a coat of paint to a team of wooden horses.

Bella had never successfully learned to paint delicate flowers on tea cups or sculpt leaping horses. It didn't matter if she learned the skills or if she was enjoying the lessons, her parents simply fired the art teachers and hired dance teachers when their interests changed on a whim. They employed an endless series of tutors; riding instructors, Latin tutors, French, Italian, German and Russian tutors. Bella was a good student; she worked hard and enjoyed the subjects, but her parents' focus was mercurial. They moved from city to city, leading a gay bohemian life centered around music and the arts. Most of her time was spent reading, while her parents entertained the creme of the artistic society wherever they happened to be living at the time. She didn't mind; she knew they loved her even if their focus wasn't on her most of the time.

The hot towel soothed and softened Edward's face as Bella trimmed his hair. Not a lot, just the shaggy bits over his ears and the lock that was forever getting caught in his eyes. She uncovered his face, making sure to kiss the tip of his nose again, and began to generously lather the soap into his beard. Standing behind him, she pressed two fingers to the underside of his chin and tilted his head back.

Edward opened his eyes and watched as Bella took a deep breath before laying the blade to his skin. A look of peace came over her face when she lifted the blade and wiped it off on the bib she had placed around his neck. She smiled down at him and explained.

"If I draw blood on the first cut, I'm nervous for the whole shave. If the first one is perfect, the rest follow suit."

Bella leaned down and kissed him in the middle of the forehead. She moved every so slightly forward and tucked his head into her stomach. Edward let his eyes drift closed again and gave over to the sensation of his wife caring for him.

Bella relaxed even further when the tricky area of his adam's apple was finished. The rest of his neck and the area under his chin was finished quickly. Bella repositioned Edward's head to be more upright, and nestled it snug between her breasts.

The feeling of having the back of his head pressed between her breasts was much better than he imagined. The experience was more intimate, more alluring to be on the receiving end of the shave. He promised himself to cuff Carlisle on the back of the head for having experienced it before him and causing him so much jealousy.

Edward could feel the thrumming of her heart on his scalp; her breathing was steady and calm as she finished with the edge of his jaw. When Bella ran her fingers over his neck to check for stray hairs now that he was clean of soapy foam, he almost jumped out of the chair and threw her over his shoulder. Edward would have marched her into the bedroom if he'd been able, but the boys were expecting them; there wasn't enough time to seduce Bella properly.

As Bella freshened the lather on his cheeks, Edward took the chance to ask her a few questions.

"Were they good parents, your parents? Were they good to you?"

"They were lovely. They loved each other passionately and took good care of me. While I wasn't always the centre of their attention, I knew they loved me."

"What did you picture your life being, when you were a girl?" This question made him nervous, but he had to know. If she'd dreamed of being a wealthy lady or married to some fancy well-to-do gentleman, well, he needed to know.

He'd never be rich or fancy, but he could love her enough so she wouldn't notice what he wasn't. He couldn't give her fine clothes and jewels, but Edward liked to think he could make her happy enough that she would no longer want them. He wasn't sure why he wanted to know or how to explain, but he needed to know what dreams Bella had for herself. If there was any way he could make even part of them come true, he'd work himself to the bone to do it for her.

"All I ever wanted when I was a girl was a home of my own, Edward. The size didn't matter as long as I could call it mine. We moved around so much, living in hotels, inns, rented homes and such. One summer we lived in a gypsy caravan—that was awful. There was no privacy at all. Then, after Mother died, we lived at the mining camp in a canvas tent with two cots; one for me and one for my father. To have my own home, four walls and a roof over my head, that was the dream. Permanency and stability were all I ever dreamed of. Well, that and a handsome husband and healthy children. I may have grown up wealthy and a vagabond, but none of that was important to me."

Bella's concentration shifted to Edward's cheek as she continued to attend to his beard. He stayed silent until the straight razor was lifted from his skin.

"No dreams of fancy clothes or diamond earbobs, then?"

Bella laughed.

"Mother wanted me to get my ears and nose pierced when I turned thirteen as some sort of womanhood ritual she heard of once. She enlisted the cook to be the one to do it. As soon as the red-hot hat pin touched my ear, I was sick all over my mother and then I fainted."

Edward raised his hands up, winding them under her arms and around her shoulders. He tugged at her and pursed his lips in an exaggerated pout until she kissed him upside down. It was a soft, gentle, happy kiss; familiar and warm. When she pulled away, there was soap on her chin to match his. She laughed again as she wiped the soap from her face and flicked her fingers at his ear.

"We don't have time to get me all messy, Mr. Masen." She murmured, and watched as his ears turned vermillion.

In no time, the shave was finished and all the soap cleaned from his skin. Bella oiled the razor and tucked everything back in the kit as Edward tossed out the water and returned the chair. He came back to the porch in time to watch her as she swept up, her skirts swishing back and forth with the effort. When she was done, Edward grabbed her from behind and carried her into the house; she was laughing and struggling against his hold, but still holding tightly to the broom.

A few minutes later, a kiss-rumpled Bella and a slightly dishevelled Edward found Emmett and Jasper at the water's edge. Jasper was perched on a flat rock watching his brother try to gather pollywogs in his hands. Emmett was filthy from the knees down and up to his elbows, but miraculously, the rest of him was clean. Emmett proudly showed Bella his catch.

Edward was surprised when she didn't shy away or squeal. When he was a boy, showing a girl a frog always led to squealing and crying. Emmett tried to give one to Bella, but she refused politely, claiming their need to stay in and near the water. When the boy turned to release them she whispered to Edward.

"I don't mind looking at pollywogs, but I hate touching them." A visible shiver of disgust ran through her body. "Anything cold, wet and slimy, I don't like."

Edward nodded sagely. He led his family to a dry spot a few yards away from the water and spread out the blanket Bella asked him to carry. He and the boys would have just sat on the grass if she wasn't there, but for her, he'd add some niceties.

Bella passed around the food and made sure their every need was attended. It would most likely be the last chance they had to picnic on the grass as a family for a while. The snows would start soon enough, and winter would set in quick and hard. There might be a day or two warm enough for a meal on the porch before they were shut in due to cold.

Bella could picture the farmyard thick with snow. The boys could amuse themself in it if the weather allowed. Maybe, if there was enough snow, they could carve out a snow cave and play happily. She had no idea the amount of snow this part of the state received each year. Preferably, not too much to halt all work on the farm, the animals would still need tending.

She worried about her men, last winter had to have been horrible for them. She wanted to do anything and everything she could think of to distract them from those sad memories. Bella brought herself out of her musing and smiled at her boys, all three of them.

Emmett and Jasper ate quickly and returned to playing at the water's edge. Edward was sprawled on his back, his eyes closed to the sun. Bella gathered the remains of lunch and repacked the basket. Leaving Edward to nap, she wandered over to the water, a few paces beyond where the boys were mucking about. She walked for a bit, admiring the view and enjoying the cool air on her face.

All too soon, it was time to go home and finish the day's chores. Bella had managed to gather several armfuls of wild onion and wild garlic. Both grew in the area near the water. After they were cleaned and trimmed, she'd dry them, tied in small bundles and hung from the rafters.

* * *

Over the next couple of days, Bella readied her lists of supplies and staples she needed to replenish the pantry and keep the family warmly clothed. Edward had given her a generous budget and she was determined to work within her means.

She had packed up the items she was hoping to barter into a small crate the day before they planned to go, tucking a small patchwork quilt over the top to keep the jars secure. Edward had said they would be taking the wagon, not the small cart for this trip, so all of them would ride.

Emmett was wild with excitement for this trip to town. He had ten cents saved up that he planned to spend at the general store on sweets. He kept Jasper fascinated with his list of favourite candies and descriptions of flavours.

Edward had his own list, two in fact. One for the farm, and a secret list, if he could keep Bella in the dark long enough.

They left for town early, as soon as breakfast was tidied. Several crates were lashed to the wagon and draped with thick canvas. Emmett and Jasper were given prime seats in and around the boxes, but far enough away enough from each other that they wouldn't get into a fight. Emmett had matured from his pinching phase and the boys had been getting along well, of late.

Bella smiled as they passed the rock where she had sat and cried her sorrows away. She could hardly believe it had only been a few days ago when her life changed so much for the better. She slid her hand over and gave Edward's knee a light squeeze. He turned his head and looked at her, a soft smile spreading across his face. Bella leaned her head and rested it on his shoulder. The boys were laughing, shouting some nonsense or another back and forth to each other, but neither adult paid them any attention.

The horses walked as slowly as they could down the steep hill near the end of the journey. Edward held the reins tight in his grip, but gave the horses plenty of slack. He spoke softly and clicked his tongue at them in encouragement. All of them, humans and horses alike, heaved a sigh of relief when the slope flattened out and the wagon was level once again. The ride back would be much less tense, no matter how many extra pounds of goods they added to the wagon.

For the rest of the journey, the road was bathed in sunlight—it was a perfect day. Edward reminded the boys of their manners and his expectations while they were in town. Bella's first stop was the laundry, to see if Irina could attend to her hair. Jasper still stuck to Bella's side, so he'd have to go with her. The ladies at the laundry could watch over him while Bella was occupied. Edward would take Emmett with him to the feed store and the rest of the errands he had to attend. They planned to meet in a few hours at the general store, then head for home.

With all the planning and arrangements they were making, none of them noticed the solitary figure watching them from the shadows of the woods.

 **AN: Just an early warning, I'm taking a wee vacation from this story starting next week. I'll post next Friday as usual but not for a while after that. Then we will wrap this little tale up in a nice bow and move on to other things. I've so enjoyed this story with you, dear reader. You've taught me so much.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	31. Chapter 31

**Without Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77 ... well, you don't want to know. Thanks to those ladies this chapter is yours.**

 **Chapter 31**

Carlisle had no idea why he was hiding in the woods and watching the back of Edward's wagon disappear into the distance. The whole reason he was on the road was to go make friendly with Edward and Bella, and possibly get some help with his love life. Carlisle wanted to apologize to Edward for failing him, for not showing him how to woo Bella instead of trying to steal her for himself. He hoped Edward would allow him to get close enough to tell Bella she was right about him; he wasn't a good or loyal friend, and for certain, wasn't any kind of gentleman at all. Carlisle knew he needed to learn how to be a proper one, because Esme deserved a real gentleman, and nothing less.

The season-hardened trapper was intent on become a gentleman. Carlisle was ready to trade in his furs and gear in exchange for a plow and harrow. He was prepared to give his buckskin suits away and dress in homespun cotton if it was required of him. He fancied a roof over his head, and the most perfectly beautiful woman he had ever met warming his bed.

Carlisle had been seduced by the idea of family living, something he had a feeling Edward and Bella had achieved without his interference; in fact, it appeared by his reckoning they'd achieved it despite him. He wanted that new homey life desperately and here was Esme, the beguiling, enchanting Esme, with a ready-made family for him. Carlisle just needed to work out a plan to make everything fall into his lap; the farm, the family, and most importantly, Esme. He wanted her most of all.

The crux of the matter was she wanted little to do with him.

And therein lay his problem.

Carlisle had taken her to town, carrying her in his arms carefully to the doctor. She thanked him graciously, but formally, and then dismissed him summarily. Esme must have been blind to his adoration and devotion; as if it were possible for him to leave her.

He waited outside the doctor's clinic until Esme left, her leg properly splinted and a borrowed cane in her hand, the girls in tow. Carlisle trailed after her until she reached her small rented home behind the schoolhouse.

Four full days and nights he watched and waited, scouting her every movement. That is, until this morning when the sheriff came along and shooed him off from outside of the school. That was when he came to the decision he needed to head back to Edward's for help forging a new plan.

Carlisle figured Bella and Edward could easily teach this old dog some new tricks, having just navigated the stormy seas of wedlock themselves. It was an odd feeling for him, having to go to Edward for counsel when it had always been the other way around. But Carlisle wasn't too proud, at least not when it came to getting Esme to marry him—he'd sleep with pigs if she asked it of him.

But here he was, letting his best chance at speaking to them pass him by as he regarded the Masen family getting further and further down the road towards town. Carlisle was torn, should he follow them to town and chance having another bout of fisticuffs with Edward on the street for all to watch? Or should he go to their farm and wait for them to come home? Waiting at the farm sounded less painful—Edward was more likely to not start something at home and the men in town might spur on a fight. Besides, his beautiful face couldn't take another beating.

Carlisle turned his horse around and let him walk slowly back to town. Guessing this trip was the big winter stock-up for Edward, Carlisle knew he had plenty of time to kill and still beat Edward back to his farm. Precious time that could be better spent going back and watching Esme's house for some glimpse of her. Or perhaps spent in picking a bouquet of flowers to try and impress her. Maybe this time, if he brought Esme some flowers, she'd let him sit on the porch and court her a bit. Carlisle nudged his horse to go faster. Flowers were a good idea, and the meadow near Edward's was rife with them.

* * *

Edward tethered the horse team to the railing outside the general store. There was a long trough of water should they want to drink, and the height of the building allowed ample shade for them. Later that day, when they would start loading the wagon, he'd give them each a nosebag full of oats to munch on before the long journey home. Edward gave them each a stroke down their velvety noses and turned to his family.

Bella was standing with Jasper on her hip and a large basket hooked over her other arm. She looked a little worried, and Edward understood why. This was the first time they were in town together since they met and married, and each had errands that would take the other away for a good couple of hours. They hadn't spent that much time apart in a long while, and it was distressing for both of them.

Edward walked toward Bella with a determined grin on his face, trying to show her there was nothing to be concerned over. He kissed her on the cheek and confirmed the time they'd agreed upon. He took Emmett with him, partly to keep the boy out of trouble, and partly because he needed help with a few of his errands.

He walked purposely down the street, Emmett in tow, until he could duck between some stores and wait for Bella to leave the nearby area. Edward knew she was headed to the laundry first. The ladies there would coo and fuss over Jasper and keep him entertained while one of them saw to her hair. He didn't know exactly how much time he would have, how long it would take to cut a lady's hair.

Edward's mother, when he was a boy, used to put a pudding basin on his head and cut whatever stuck out from under it. That seemed to take forever. His shave yesterday with Bella took both no time at all and made time stand still. He could hazard a guess and say he had half an hour to an hour to finish his first two errands, the only really important ones on his list.

Once he made sure Bella was nowhere in sight, he snuck back to the barber shop next to the general store. The local barber, Sam, didn't fuss with ladies' hair as a rule, but Edward knew he would lop off great lengths for the wigmaker if any lady came by desperate enough to sell her hair. He made a fairly good trade of it, too. The wigmaker paid him for the hair by the ounce and Sam was one of the few barbers who was willing to collect it.

Edward had been in the shop one day when a sobbing girl had come in looking for a little coin. Sam had gathered the hair and cut it straight off—about level with the girl's ears. He weighted it on a balance and passed the girl six dollars. Sam had his unlit cigar in his mouth, gnawing at the end of it, and was back to giving Edward a trim within two minutes. He winked at Edward and said, "Quickest dime I ever made."

Startling Sam awake when they entered the shop, Edward greeted the man with a strong handshake. Emmett was left to play, spinning around on a short stool, making himself dizzy while waiting for the men to finish conducting their business. Edward was quick to show Sam the braid, but he had to reassure the man that he came by it honestly; that Edward hadn't cut it off some unsuspecting miss in order to earn a little money.

Although Sam recognized Edward from the couple of times he'd been at the barber shop previously, he had to confirm how Edward came by the braid. It had happened before, a husband showing up with his wife's hair to sell, but usually there was a wife still attached to the tresses.

Thirteen dollars richer, Edward went directly to the bank. He was able to make a good deposit, more than last year by a dollar and a half. Next stop over from the bank, was a place Edward had never dared to enter and would have happily lived his life never darkening its door; the ladies' dress shop. They sold ready-made dresses and did seamstressing for those who chose not to do it themselves. But more importantly, for Edward's purpose, they sold wedding rings.

Edward wanted a nice ring for Bella. A simple, but pretty gold ring to show her that he did love her—he felt strongly that she should have a proper symbol to remind her of that love. Edward vaguely remembered the look on her face when he put the borrowed ring on her finger when they married. At the time, their wedding had been a mere formality. Their marriage was real and true; he had begun to feel like a heel for not thinking of giving Bella a ring of her own. Now Edward had more than enough money and a ring was the first thing he thought of as a present. He was eager, nervous but eager to get one for his lovely wife.

After giving Emmett strict instructions not to touch anything, Edward spent a bit of time searching through the ring selection. He found a thin reddish-gold band that was still shiny and only had a couple of small scratches on the outer edge. The special part about it, the part that really caught his eye, was the dark red stone standing in the middle of the band, circled with tiny, bright clear gems.

The lady who ran the store fussed and bothered over Edward when he asked to buy the piece. She blithered on that he was the sweetest thing for buying his wife a ring so many months after marrying her. Edward learned the complete history of the ring as the lady pretended to polish it, but he knew she just wanted to gossip.

A fellow brought the ring in to sell after he'd caught his intended in a hay loft with another man. The jilted lover had bought it from a catalogue of some fancy Chicago store and was now keen to be rid of it. Edward didn't give a fig about the ring's history, although he felt better knowing it didn't come from a dead bride. Any superstition regarding it coming from a broken engagement was horseshit in his mind. They were already married, no curse could befall them now.

Edward paid out nine dollars and was relieved when he was finally able to leave the store. They had just enough time to run to the feed store and leave their list with the clerk before meeting up with Bella and Jasper. Emmett was sworn to secrecy regarding the ring. Edward bribed him with five additional pennies to spend at the store, with the understanding he would have to share his candy with his little brother.

Bella had a broad smile on her face when Edward and Emmett caught up with her. Jasper had a glorious time with the Stanleys, as well as with the ladies who worked at the laundry. He was treated like a little prince, and given far too many little cakes by Mrs. Stanley. Emmett's eyes lit up when Bella showed the small stack Mrs. Stanley had given her to take home. Mr. Stanley called them moon cakes; they were about the size of a half-dollar and had a pretty design stamped on their tops. Bella passed Emmett two, one for each hand, and said he could have more after lunch.

Quickly taking off her bonnet, Bella was pleased to show Edward her hair. Irina was able to cut it level and tidy it up. It was now in soft waves that framed her face and curled gently under her jaw. A few gentle wisps fell across her forehead. She was happy with the way it looked, so Edward was happy. He tucked a strand behind Bella's ear, smiling at her as she secured the bonnet back over her hair so they could finish their shopping. When Emmett finished his snack, they were ready to go in the general store.

Edward did his shopping for seed, tools and supplies while Bella traded the jars of preserves and dried herbs, as well as the half-dozen leftover bottles of black hair dye from the pantry. She supervised the store's clerk as he gathered the long list of foodstuffs needed for winter. After a scathing look from Mr. Masen, Mr. Newton kept busy with his eye on the till and very much away from the lovely Mrs. Masen. Emmett and Jasper were at the front of the store, plotting the best ratio of various candies to last them for the greatest length of time.

Having finished his shopping first, Edward observed Bella as she picked over sacks of flour and sugar. He watched his wife delight at finding a box of cocoa, and took note when she picked up a small burlap bag, gave it a good sniff and looked at it longingly before putting it back in its former place on the shelf.

Pretending to be interested in some doodads, he waited for her to be busy in another area of the store before he made his way over to the shelves where she had been a few moments before. It was a bag of dried cherries that she'd fancied, but returned. The price was high, which was why Bella probably put them back, but Edward decided to buy them for her on a whim, for a little treat. The ring had been less money than he anticipated, and he wanted to see his wife smile. Edward handed two bags of the dried cherries to the clerk, asking the boy not to say anything about them to Mrs. Masen and just add to them to his bill. Bella would find them when she unpacked the crates. He hoped he'd be well-rewarded with kisses for his surprising gift when the bags of cherries were discovered.

Edward found her again near the back of the store where the fabrics were stocked. Bella was holding up a bolt of dark indigo blue cloth and testing the thickness of it with her fingers. She smiled at him when he approached her.

"Do you think Jasper should be out of dresses soon? This cotton would make excellent rompers or short pants for spring. There's some water damage to the edge, so it's on sale. I could make several trousers for all three of you for the same price as one of your pairs."

"Sounds perfect. I'll take it to the front. Do you have more to get?"

"Just thread and buttons and I'm finished."

She piled his arms with three bolts of fabric and kissed him on the cheek. Poking a finger at the top bolt, Bella told him she needed ten yards of the bright white, the other two were marked to be sold uncut and discounted. Edward dropped the fabric and instructions at the table where Mr. Newton's eldest daughter worked. Bella trailed quickly behind him with several spools of white thread and a sack of buttons.

Edward settled the bill with Mr. Newton and accepted his help packing the wagon while Bella supervised the purchase of the candy with the still sour-faced Mrs. Newton. Emmett was overjoyed with his bulging sack of candy. Jasper already had a stick of peppermint candy in his hands and telltale red streaks of sugar on his mouth.

Emmett listed each and every piece he'd bought to Bella while they waited for the feed to be loaded. She promised to give him some squares of wax cloth to wrap up most of his haul, so it wouldn't go stale before he had a chance to eat it. The boy was a little disappointed to find he wasn't allowed to eat it all in one go, but warmed to the idea of spreading his stash out over the next few months.

* * *

Edward hid his nervousness well during the beginning of the journey. The ring was heavy against his thigh. He couldn't decided when to give it to Bella. At home, that night when the boys were in bed? As soon as they got home before unpacking the wagon? Or now? Now seemed to be the most appealing option, although just before bed could lead to more pleasurable pursuits.

As they neared the steep hill, Edward finally knew this was the moment. He halted the horses and climbed down from the wagon. Calling to the boys, Edward lifted them down, one at a time, and instructed them to run up the hill and wait for them. Bella was gathering her shawl and getting ready to dismount when Edward reached the passenger side of the wagon seat. Bella was perfectly capable of descending by herself, but she accepted his help. As soon as her feet were free from her skirts, Edward placed his hands on her waist and lifted her to the ground.

He didn't let go of Bella's waist once her feet were firmly planted. Instead, he leaned in and kissed her sweetly. He pulled away and smiled broadly. She was looking at him with wonder, as if he were the most lovely thing in the world, a ridiculous notion as she clearly was the only beauty around.

Without a word, he held her left hand in his right, and reaching into his pants pocket, took out the ring. Edward slipped it on her finger and brushed his thumb over the red stone a few times before being able to raise his head and look her in the eye. Bella's eyes were on him, a questioning look on her face. Still holding her hand, Edward curled his left hand around Bella's back and pulled her to him.

Edward knew he probably should have said something, made some pretty, flowery speech about love and such. He probably should have said why he bought the ring and why he was giving it to her here, at this spot. Edward wondered if she'd remember the importance of this piece of road they were on; the difference between the other times they had been here and now.

He tried to open his mouth a few times to start, but the words weren't coming. They were stuck again, running through his mind, none of them willing to be the beginning. Edward raised his eyes from their joined hands and the ring sitting prettily on her finger as if had always belonged there, and saw the look on Bella's face. There was no shy blush on her cheeks, no hesitant smile, just the look of a woman deeply in love.

He didn't have to tell her what was in his heart, she knew.

So, he kissed her.

Bella returned his kisses with a passion and determination he hadn't felt from her before. They stood, savouring each other until they could hear Emmett yelling for them from the top of the hill. Edward gave his wife's hand a light squeeze, feeling the raised edge of the stone on his palm. He watched in wonder as she wiped a tear from under her eye, the smile never leaving her face. Together, they began to lead the horses up the hill so they could all go home.

When they reached the homestead, there, sitting on the porch with his feet up on the railing like he owned the world, was Carlisle.

 **AN: I do hope this answers some of your questions. The shadowy figure was Carlisle, I wouldn't add a nefarious new threat this late in the story. I'm delightfully evil but not that cruel. Three weeks, dear reader, for the next chapter.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	32. Chapter 32

**Many, many thanks to Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77 for their continuing help and guidance. Thank you for your patience while this story was on its brief hiatus. I had the most lovely, bunny-plot inspiring vacation, but on to the chapter. More below.**

 **Chapter 32**

The smile dropped like a brick from Edward's face. He cleared his throat loudly. Carlisle's chair thudded back on its four legs, his hat falling to the floor.

"Emmett?" He spoke sharply over his shoulder to his eldest son. "Take Jasper and some of your candy and go down to the creek. Or better yet, go check on the puppies. I need to speak to Carlisle."

Bella turned her head to look at her husband. His brow was furrowed and his nostrils were flared. She laid a comforting hand on Edward's arm as Emmett did as his father bade him, jumping swiftly down from the bed of the wagon.

Edward seldom yelled, so Emmett was able to recognize the dead calm of his father's voice as brewing anger. Jasper waved at Carlisle, but followed his big brother after he was helped down. Emmett cast a worried eye at Carlisle, but his hero just winked at him.

As soon as they were gone from sight, Edward leaned down and drew his shotgun from under the wagon seat and laid it across his lap.

"Just wait, Edward; don't shoot him. Why don't we hear what he has to say first."

Edward looked at his wife. He was heartened to know she was the reasonable sort—caring and kind, too. He looked back at the varmint on his porch. Carlisle was slowly lowering his legs from the railing, but made no effort to stand. Carefully, his eyes training to Edward's trigger finger, the hunter-turned-hunted reached for his hat.

"You can always shoot him after he talks. Just make sure he's off the porch. It's harder to get blood out of wood than dirt." Bella smirked at her husband while tossing Carlisle a look; she made certain the varmint could hear her. Her dark humour made Edward snort out a sharp laugh. He kissed her on the cheek in delight.

"And I wouldn't want to hit the house or break a window. I don't have any more glass to repair it. I guess I'll talk to him instead. Thank you, wife." Edward tilted her head and kissed her with gusto. Edward only wanted to scare Carlisle; he'd never shoot him, and it appeared Bella knew that as well. Hopefully, Carlisle wouldn't be quite as certain, so they could have a little fun at his expense.

Carlisle stood, hitched up his pants with his hat clenched in his hand and slowly walked down the stairs. He came to a stop, leaning against the post at the end of the handrail. The trapper started talking as if nothing had changed between the three of them.

"There you are, old friend. I'm in need of a good hot meal and a long chin-wag, so I've been setting a spell here awaiting your return. Howdy Bella, what's for dinner?" He flipped his hat onto his head just so he could doff it to her as a gesture of greeting.

When neither of them answered him, he continued speaking while trying to ignore the shotgun barrel in his view.

"I've had quite the adventure since I saw you last, let me tell you. But first, I'm tickled to see Bella made her way back to you, Edward. I guess my helpful advice worked to your advantage."

Edward jumped down from the wagon, gun in hand, and walked around the back of it to Bella's side. Propping the shotgun against the wheel, he reached out with both hands to grab her waist, and helped her down. When Bella was steady on her feet, Edward picked up the shotgun again. He kissed the side of his wife's head at the temple, while keeping his eyes fixed on Carlisle.

When the pair made no effort to move any closer to him, Carlisle started walking towards them. His feet were dragging along the dirt walkway like a man heading to the noose.

The interloper drew to within ten feet of Edward and Bella and promptly fell to one knee. All of his charm and boastful swagger was gone, melting away like snow on a sunny day. Lacing his fingers together, Carlisle pressed his hands to his knee for a moment. He looked like he could be praying if he were a godly man, but all three of them knew he sure as hell wasn't. He must have found some resolve, Edward noted, because after a deep breath, Carlisle raised his head and stared his old friend in the eye. Then he lifted his hands up in the air to the height of his head.

Edward stood there, shocked. He had the shotgun hooked over one of his arms, Bella's hand clamped to the other. The gun was usually kept empty; he didn't like to have a loaded weapon near his young children and the shells were still in the wagon. It had been fired a handful of times, just to scare off any threat, mostly.

"Get up, you fool. I'm not going to shoot you. What the hell are you doing here, anyway? I thought I told you to leave and not come back."

"I am a fool, and I ain't getting up until you and Bella tell me you forgive me for being such an ass." Carlisle bowed his head again, hoping to earn their trust.

Edward thought about just walking past him and swayed forward as if to start. If Carlisle wanted to spend the rest of his life on his knees in Edward's yard, then so be it. It'd be no skin off Edward's nose. But Bella refused to budge and made him stay to hear Carlisle out.

Carlisle slid his other leg beneath him and rested back on his heels. He lowered his hands and tucked them behind his back and into the pockets of his denim trousers.

"Something happened to me after I left here; after I left to go find Bella for you, Eddie. Remember, I left to get Bella? For you, old pal?" He looked pleadingly at his former friend. Edward awarded him a small nod.

Drawing a deep breath and tugging on his shirt collar, Carlisle weighed the idea of standing while pleading his case, but decided against it. They'd think him more penitent if he was kneeling, and he could stomach the pain in his knees from those pesky little rocks for a bit longer.

"Came to realize that it wasn't love I felt for you, Bella, although you are a lovely lady. I was jealous of Edward, and I have to admit I was jealous of you, as well. He's my best friend and he don't need me anymore; he's got you. And I was getting left behind. 'Confused lust and want for love. I admire you Bella, you're one hell of a gal, but you're not the gal for me."

Edward was sorely tempted to punch Carlisle for the half-assed apology, but the fool kept talking and talking. He seemed sincere, but Edward wasn't biting just yet.

"Edward, I've been your pal for years and I never made any secret that I didn't like Rachel. But I've always wanted you to be happy. We're as good as brothers, you and I, and hand to heart, I wish you every happiness in the world. I shoulda helped you win Bella's heart, not try to take her from you. I was wrong, and I'm sorry."

He sucked a huge lungful of breath in through his teeth and continued, "But Edward, Bella, my best friends—my only friends—I need your help now. I met a lady in the forest and I'm in love. I just need to make her see she should love me, too. It just hit me like a thunderbolt when I found her. She's the most glorious creature ever. I can't wait for you to meet my Esme. But I need your help to make her my Esme—I don't know what to do."

Carlisle inched forward on his knees, continuing to beg. His voice was wheedling and whining, but not quite as simpering when he spoke of his new found love. The whole scenario was completely out of character for the well-seasoned mountain man.

Unsettled by his actions, Bella began to worry Carlisle had been struck on the head, or something had addled his brains because he was no longer making sense. Carlisle launched into a rambling speech about his journey through the woods and the realities he faced along the way. He was starting to rant like a madman, working himself into a right lather.

Bella whirled within Edward's grasp on her elbow and looked at her husband's equally confounded expression. She rested her head on his collarbone and whispered, " _Dear God"_ so only he could hear. Bella could feel suppressed laughter starting to shake within Edward as she struggled to hold back her own.

"Edward, you've gotta help me. Tell me what to do. How'd you get Bella to love you? How'd you woo her? Teach me how to woo, Edward. I need to woo. Tell me how to make Esme mine."

Edward let Bella's hand slip from his elbow as he reached for Carlisle's arm. He hauled his pitiful friend up to standing and propelled him to the house, all the while holding back his own laughter at the situation.

"Bella, could you go get the boys? Romeo here and I need to have a man-to-man talk. Maybe you could bring a jug of whiskey back as well? I think we might need it." Edward tossed her a playful wink, quirking one side of his mouth up. Bella nodded at him, blew a kiss and pantomimed a swooning faint by laying the back of a hand across her forehead while fanning herself with the other.

* * *

By the time the men had unloaded the wagon, Edward had heard the whole convoluted story of the mysteriously exotic Esme, the devil grouse and Carlisle's undying love for the woman. He didn't believe it, but he'd heard it.

After fetching the boys, Bella kept them with her so Edward could deal with Carlisle until it was her turn to listen to the story. Bella swirled around the kitchen, preparing the evening meal as Carlisle told her his tale. She handed him a small plate of bread and cheese to help soak up some the whiskey he'd drank while talking with Edward. Emmett and Jasper were well occupied wrapping their treats and divvying the stash up between them, but kept half an ear to Carlisle's stories.

Edward reluctantly allowed Carlisle to eat dinner at his table, still undecided as to whether to forgive the weasel for interfering in his marriage. After the meal, Bella made him tell the story a third time. This time the telling was clearer, and Carlisle came to a few conclusions of his own long before Bella and Edward offered their advice. Carlisle left the farm that night with a slightly better understanding of the female mind and a new spring in his step. Bella and Edward were giddy, and long after the boys had fallen asleep, they laughed in bed at the day's events.

* * *

A few days later, Carlisle returned. He had followed Bella's advice and was freshly washed, shaved, even sporting a new suit. The lovesick trapper had spoken to his beloved twice. A newly found sense of humility and confidence helped Carlisle approach Esme and speak to her properly; no more hiding and watching from afar. He had been honest and forthright with his praise and intentions.

Carlisle further informed them that he had taken a room at the boarding house in town to be closer to Esme. He was anxious to begin his life as a more respectable member of society. He asked Edward's advice about nearby farmland, and listened to Bella's thoughts about what he might need to set up a household of his own. Although he was a mostly changed man from the rascal he was before, there was still a twinkle of his former impish nature in his eyes from time to time.

After a long meeting with his Chief friend, Carlisle had been given permission to build a homestead on the land he had wanted. With winter setting in, building would have to wait until the spring thaw.

Eager to help and show off his building knowledge to his hero, Emmett brought his collection of blocks and building toys out to the table and he, Carlisle and Jasper took turns arranging the layout of his new cabin.

Emmett invited Carlisle to stay for his birthday celebration, with his father's approval. Carlisle, in full knowledge of the special day before he arrived, had purchased a child-sized bow and a quiver full of blunt arrows for the boy's birthday. He promised to take Emmett out for practice whenever Edward and Bella would allow.

For Jasper, so he wouldn't feel left out, Carlisle brought a cup and ball toy and showed the little boy how to use it. Turning over a new leaf was helping the trapper learn to employ the niceties of life. Still rough around the edges, he was learning and a willing student. And like any good tomcat, he always managed to land on his feet.

The day before, when Bella had found the two bags of precious dried cherries in her grocery order, she hunted Edward down in the barn and kissed him silly. They both spent the rest of the day fishing bits of straw from their clothing as a result of her heartfelt 'thank you'. The memory of their tryst left a smile on her face as she prepared for Emmett's birthday celebration.

The beautiful tall cake she made for him was a dense chocolate with thick buttercream and a layer of softened cherries in the middle. It was as close to Bella's favourite dessert from her vagabond childhood as she could replicate. She almost wet herself with laughter trying to teach her menfolk how to say the complex German name _Schwarzwälder kirschtorte_.

The covered wagon with its crisp white cover and prancing brown horses was Emmett's favourite present. He and Jasper spent hours that evening having races on the rug in front of the fireplace.

* * *

The new toy was a welcome distraction, as the next day saw several overfilled wagons of both straw and hay being delivered to the farm. Edward and Bella, with the welcomed help of Carlisle, were able to fill the hay loft with enough bales to keep the animals very warm and full for the entire winter to come.

Edward and Carlisle arranged a small straw fort for the boys to play in and fashioned a pulley ride to get them up to the loft. It would help keep them entertained when the worst of the weather hit. As a treat, Bella gave them a few tattered quilts and a basket of food as, under Carlisle's watchful eye, Jasper and Emmett were to spend that night sleeping in the loft. The puppies were corralled into the main part of the barn as well, much to Leah's displeasure, until she was safely with them on her own little straw bed near the base of the ladder.

The boys kept Carlisle up late. The heavy activity of hauling bales had exhausted him, but he rallied for Emmett and Jasper. The generous three fingers of whiskey Bella had given him for after the young ones had fallen asleep was burning a hole in his pocket. It was all he could do to stop himself from slipping behind a wall of hay and downing the little bottle.

Carlisle told them story after story in the flickering lamp light. The boys sat transfixed, hanging on his every word and gesture. Together, they polished off the large meal Bella had made them, savoring the especially huge serving of leftover cake. Jasper nodded off first, and Carlisle tucked him into his blankets as far from the edge of the loft as possible. Then, turning the lamp as low as the wick would allow, he proceeded to tell Emmett the most frightening ghost stories he could remember. The moon was high in the sky by the time Emmett allowed himself to fall asleep, his arms tightly clutching his younger brother in protection.

Having enjoyed his whiskey, Carlisle settled down for the night. He pinned the boys in snug as a bug in a rug, so there was no way they could roll off and tumble to the ground. There was a thick barrier of straw under the loft, just in case, to break a fall.

No sooner had Carlisle drifted off to sleep, Emmett shook him awake.

"Carlisle, Carlisle! Something bad is happening. Wake up."

Carlisle was frozen in place, halfway to sleeping and feeling paralyzed. It took a few minutes of hard shaking from Emmett to rouse him. Jasper was sitting on Carlisle's middle, pressing on his bladder and bouncing up and down.

When he made to sit up, finally fully awake, Jasper slid off to the side delivering a swift knee to Carlisle's most precious tender spot. Cursing and spitting, Carlisle asked the boys what the hell they thought they were doing.

"I heard a bad, bad noise, Carlisle. We have to go back to the house; something awful is happening, I just know it." Emmett's eyes were as big as saucers, Jasper's were heavy-lidded with sleep with one finger in his mouth for comfort.

A high pitched shriek cut the night air and Carlisle jumped to his feet, not recognizing the sound. Leah began barking from her nest below the loft and the puppies tried to join in with their tiny yelps.

Now, there are quite a few birds that sound like humans in distress, but there weren't many of them near Edward's farm. All the same, Carlisle couldn't be certain something bad hadn't happened back at the cabin. By the look on Emmett and Jasper's faces, he realized the boys would not settle down again unless they knew, without a doubt, that nothing horrible was going on in the house.

Carlisle lowered Emmett and then Jasper, before climbing down the ladder himself. The whiskey was making his brain a little fuzzy, so he fell the last two feet. Leah nudged him hard on the shoulder and gave him a sharp bark as if to spur him into action.

The four of them ran to the house, and Carlisle pounded on the door. A long howl from Leah rent the night air. No flames could be seen through the windows, no coyote or bear was on the front porch. There wasn't any imminent danger to be seen, but they were still baffled enough by the sound to wake everyone else.

It took a few minutes for Edward to get to the door and unlock it. His hair was a mess on his head and he was only wearing his trousers. There were eight faint red lines running down his chest and a large red mark on the right side of his neck.

Emmett grabbed his father around the waist and hugged him tight. Jasper sat down with his back to the doorframe, now with two comforting fingers in his mouth.

"Papa, we heard the most awful noise and we were a-scared."

Edward ran his hand through his hair and a blush ran up his neck to cover his ears in pure scarlet.

"You heard that?"

Carlisle and Emmett nodded in unison. Carlisle narrowed his eyes at Edward. A prideful look crept across his friend's face, turning into the biggest shit-eating grin Carlisle had ever seen.

Edward cleared his throat, covering a laugh.

"Ah … um … Mumby had a start and screamed. Everything is fine. No need to worry."

"You sure, Papa? Everything's okay? Mumby's not scared anymore?"

"Oh yes, everything is just fine and dandy. Mumby is resting now. You all go back to the loft and go to sleep. Sorry to wake and worry you." A very faint and breathless _goodnight_ carried out from the bedroom, confirming his assertions. Edward kissed the top of Emmett's head and picked up the sleepy Jasper. He hugged to boy tight, then passed him of to his friend with a smug smirk.

"Good night, Edward." Carlisle hefted Jasper to rest against his shoulder. "I hope Bella sleeps better now. No more cause for her to scream out."

"Well, I think there might be at least one more before the night is through, my friend. Maybe two or three." Edward's chest puffed with satisfaction and he shut the door in Carlisle's laughing face.

 **AN: Thank you to all of you who voted in this year's TwiFic Fandom Awards. I was so pleased to see many new authors getting love as well as the well-loved writers of our classics. I can't tell you how touched I am at the outpouring of love this story has received. I'm honoured that you think so highly of it.**

 **AliciaW68, you've got class.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	33. Chapter 33

**Sorry for the delay. Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc, and IpsitaC77 worked feverishly to get this chapter to you. And it's a whopper.**

 **Descriptions of domestic violence, death, and miscarriage towards the end of the chapter. If you are sensitive to these subjects, you may want to skim this chapter and skip the ending.**

 **Chapter 33**

Winter set in about a month or so after Emmett's birthday. It was bitter cold, but there wasn't much snow at first. Bella was able to take advantage of the situation to send a letter to the new schoolmarm for a bit of advice with regard to the boys' education. The collection of books she had was an asset, but any suggestions from a qualified teacher would be considered if it would help the boys and her with their lessons. Carlisle carried the letter for her, overjoyed with a reason to be in contact with his Esme and brought her response back a few days later.

Bella was delighted when Esme proved to be an efficient, friendly teacher willing to help students not even in her charge. Bella, eager to meet the woman who bewitched Carlisle, wrote another letter, this one more friendly, followed by another and another. Bella began to plot with the idea of killing two birds with one stone, making a true friend and helping Carlisle get the woman of his dreams.

Bella invited Esme and the girls to Thanksgiving dinner for a proper introduction. Edward liked the idea of meeting the woman who had tamed his wild friend, and was delighted to see his wife so happy having her first-ever guests to the house. Carlisle didn't count in Edward's estimation—he was more like a stray that wouldn't find a place of its own. Carlisle, lovesick with gratitude, made a show of kissing Bella's knuckles in thanks for helping him out and making friends with his beloved Esme. He even helped Bella clean the house some after he tracked and bagged the biggest turkey in the state.

On the eve of Thanksgiving, Edward and Bella took turns overnight tending to the fire every few hours to ensure the massive bird cooked properly. Bella planned the meal for mid-afternoon, giving her guests enough daylight to get home after eating.

Jasper was content to just sit on the rug near the fire to watch Mumby as she worked, but Emmett was confused by all the activity. Every inch of the house was scrubbed clean and there were now things he wasn't allowed to touch unless he washed his hands first. Bella made lots of food, but they had soup for three days. The same boring soup, while the house smelled like really yummy treats he wasn't allowed to try. It wasn't right in his belly, and he spent more and more time in the barn with the dogs.

Once Esme and her lovely girls arrived late Thanksgiving morning and met everyone, the girls spent the better part of the day with the last couple of puppies. Mentioning the dogs was the second thing out of Emmett's mouth after 'hello'. Three of the pups had been sold to other nearby farmers. Jasper and Emmett were each allowed one for themselves, Jasper insisting his little bitch be named 'Ralph', while Emmett called his dog 'Bullet'. The boys were very proud of their dogs and keen to show them off to anyone they could wrangle.

After the first few shy minutes, the children got along fairly well, using the dogs as a commonality. Rosalita's English had improved, even though little Alicia dominated all conversations. Jasper was very taken with the black-haired girl, and trailed after her wherever she went. He seemed quite fascinated with the gay blue ribbon on her dress, and wanted to touch the bow. Alicia kept having to dodge him and his sticky, wet fingers on her pretty new frock.

Emmett wasn't as keen to be friends with girls. He hadn't had much interaction with them and found them to be strange creatures who squealed too much and spoke funny. The dresses and ruffles confused him—how could a body play games all dressed up like that? It took the bigger girl a long time to pull her skirts around just so, tugging until she was set on the barn floor, all sorts of fussing just to play with the puppies. All that bother made Emmett appreciate Jasper a little more. A brother was great to play and get dirty with when a fellow needed a playmate. Emmett wouldn't know what a boy could to do with a sister.

Bella and Esme became instant bosom friends. Bella was delighted when Esme, dressed in a fine brocade skirt and bolero, hung up her jacket, rolled up the sleeves of her blouse, tied an apron to her form and began helping with the meal. Bella had been preparing dishes for the Thanksgiving feast for three days and was frazzled at having company, but as soon as Esme arrived, it was as if they were old friends. With Esme's help, they were able to finish making the meal with enough time left to enjoy a long chat over a cup of tea.

Esme listened to Bella's life story with delight, particularly the time Bella spent in Spain and Portugal. They compared recipes from the Old World, both complaining about the lack of supplies here in the mountains for international cuisine. They laughed at Esme's story of making a traditional Mexican meal for Carlisle and watching as his face turned white, then purple when he tasted chilis for the first time.

* * *

After the success of their first meeting and the delicious Thanksgiving feast, the ladies made Carlisle continue with his new job of postman. He was charged with going back and forth between households every couple of days. Esme always paid for his services with a kiss to the cheek, much to Carlisle's dismay, as he hoped for much more. Bella paid him with warm meals.

Through their correspondence, Bella and Esme planned a Christmas celebration for both families. Rosalita, who had grown up in Oaxaca with Christian missionary parents, had never experienced a white Christmas. This was to be her first Christmas since her parents' death and Esme was desperate to make it a happy one for her.

* * *

On the twenty-first of December, Carlisle and Esme packed up a rented wagon with gifts and food, ready to spend at least a week at the farm with Edward, Bella and their boys. Extra provisions and clothing were packed in case of heavy snow.

Esme closed the school for three weeks over the holiday season, but informed Carlisle she had to be back at the school before the New Year to prepare her lessons. The snow would become unmanageable after New Year's, causing the Masen farm to be cut off from town for a very long stretch, and Esme didn't want to chance getting stranded. Esme loved her students and was a firm, but fair teacher. In the few months since she started, Esme worked them hard—they all needed a break before the beginning of next term.

The little house was full to the brim, but still comfortable with the addition of four extra people. It felt cosy rather than crowded, with everyone having to share just a little bit. Esme bunked in with Bella, leaving Carlisle and Edward on pallets by the fire. Alicia, being more than a year older than Jasper, was nimble enough to be trusted with the ladder to the loft under her sister's watchful eye, so she and Rosalita slept up there. The boys kept snug in their own room.

* * *

The next couple of days saw everyone in a hive of industry, the girls making yards and yards of garland using strips of fabric leftover from various sewing projects. They also strung buckets of popcorn to add to the tree they planned to fell for the celebration. Edward had been carving some pretty little snowflakes and icicles out of scraps of balsam wood to hang around the house. The adults worked hard and were determined to make this a special Christmas for all the children. For Rosalita, this was her first American Christmas. Alicia, the first Christmas to share with other children. The boys had lost their mother and then gained a _Mumby_. It was an uncertain holiday for all of them.

The menfolk spent most of their time outside, making a snow cave big enough for Edward and Carlisle and the four children to gather around and enjoy a small fire. Days earlier, Edward, Emmett and Carlisle had started piling the snow into a huge mound, and today they were carving out the entrance and main room of the cave.

Edward and Carlisle would take the children over the ridge to find the perfect tree the next day, giving the womenfolk a few hours of quiet time to cook. Bella was preparing a snack of sugared nuts and hot cocoa for the adventure as Esme worked on other dishes.

Rather than being put out by another woman in her work space, Bella discovered that she and Esme cooked together as if they'd been doing it all their lives. Like a smooth dance, they seemed to be able to anticipate each other's moves and needs. There was no awkwardness or jealousy. Esme seemed to just know how Bella wanted things done and worked accordingly.

It was wonderful for Bella to have another adult woman in the house to talk to, especially one who had been married and was able to answer a few questions Bella had about men. She noticed, though, that Esme's demeanour changed when the subject of her late husband was broached. But after a few minutes, Esme always seemed to shake off her doldrums and was her usual congenial self.

* * *

On the morning of December twenty-third, Bella and Esme made a show of laying out bowls and pans as if they were to be cooking up a storm while everyone was out for the day. Edward pulled Bella into his arms and demanded, between soft kisses, she not over-tax herself. Carlisle slid his arm along Esme's shoulder and hugged her to him, playfully winking at her, causing a blush to bloom on her cheeks. The women both stood on the porch waving as the group, well bundled against the cold, set off on their adventure.

Once they returned to the kitchen, Bella and Esme broke into laughter and had to put everything back. All they planned on doing today was bake a simple batch or two of biscuits. Bella went down to the cellar and brought up the stew they had prepared the day before.

Tittering like schoolgirls, the women camped out in front of the fire with their feet propped up, a large plate of cookies between them. It was rare to have any kind of free time, let alone just before the Christmas feast.

Bella let her head roll back and listened to her muscles pop and groan.

"If I should fall asleep, please wake me in time to bathe the fruitcakes, Esme. They need one last soak before we can serve them."

"I'm intrigued to try it. My father's mother sent some once; it would have better served as a doorstop than a cake. It was vile. I'm sure yours will be delicious." Esme broke off a small piece of shortbread and popped it in her mouth, letting it dissolve on her tongue.

"Now, my _abuela_ , she made the most wonderful dessert every Christmas. And a special Christmas drink so good, grown men would cry for it. We'd spend the day making tamales. Hundreds of tamales. _Abuelita's_ were better than the rest, maybe due to her Ecuadorian heritage, I don't know, but I loved her tamales. When they were all done and steaming in the pot, she'd then press a handful of tortillas and fry them, one by one. She'd let them drain a bit and then dunk them in cinnamon sugar. It was the most simple but wonderful holiday dessert. A little mulled cider, or _café con leche_ or some very old tequila, that's what Christmas always was to me as a girl."

Esme smiled and took another piece of cookie. Bella watched as the smile dimmed on her face.

"Why do you get sad, talking about the past, like that? I don't mean to pry, but … " Bella reached across and laid her hand on Esme's arm.

"I miss my family. My _abuela_ is dead and I can't go home again. I'm not allowed, and that makes me sad. But then, I think of my girls and I'm content again."

"What about Carlisle? Does he make you content?"

"Dear, sweet fool he is, that man. He does make me happy, and will for as long as he will stay."

"One word from you and I think he'd stay the rest of his life, if you'd have him."

"Ah, but that is the question. If he knew me, he wouldn't want to stay. So I should let him go, right?"

"I think there is little you could say to drive him off, Esme. I've never seen him like this; he loves you."

Esme just lowered her head.

"Why won't you give him a chance?"

"I was married. It wasn't good and I won't allow myself or my girls to be harmed like that again. Sometimes something happens to a man once he's married; he becomes evil and nasty. I couldn't survive if it happened to Carlisle, that change of manner."

"We've all had something awful happen in our lives that harmed us. But we got through it. Maybe Carlisle is your way through that hurt?"

"I hadn't considered that. Maybe he is, but he'll be the ruin of me if he's not my way through. I care too much for him. It would destroy me to lose him."

"Well, this conversation became weighted very quickly for a fun day off. Enough with the heaviness. Come, Esme, help me in the cellar with the fruitcakes and I'll cheer you up with some of Edward's good whiskey."

Bella stood up and stretched, missing the look of fear on Esme's face. Shoving a candle in her pocket, Bella opened the floor hatch and tied the door down so it wouldn't close behind them. She took the small hurricane lantern from the mantle and lit the wick. Getting a forced, tight smile from Esme, Bella climbed down the ladder and into the dark. The weak lantern light did nothing to quell the fearful look on Esme's face.

Esme stayed near the ladder, watching Bella's faint light bob and weave in the darkness. She accepted the tray of cakes and took them up the ladder some, leaving them to the side of the hatch on the floor and stepped back down.

Bella was clutching a large jug in one hand and the lantern in the other. Esme found she could no longer contain her secret. Bella handed her the jug, but Esme reached for the lantern instead. She blew out the flame as soon as she had the lamp near her face, plunging them into darkness broken only by the weak light from the open hatch. Bella gasped and stumbled.

"Bella, I have to tell you, you are like a sister to me. But this, it's driving me mad. No one knows, a few people suspect …"

"Esme?" Bella nervously waited for her friend to answer, but to no avail.

"Esme? Let's go up and we'll talk over tea. There's nothing you can't tell me. I promise your secrets are safe with me."

"I can't look you in the face and tell you this. Here, please, in the dark."

"Of course. And then we'll say no more about it." Bella agreed, putting the jug on the stairs and reaching her hands out to Esme.

"Charles was my _abuela's_ doctor. She thought the sun rose and set with him. She begged, she pleaded with me when he expressed an interest in me, and finally she demanded I marry him. I loved her more than anyone in the world and I would do anything to please her, so I accepted his proposal. He was a well-respected man, dashing, rich, well-born and of course, English. I had finished school and was teaching at a very good _escuela_ in a wealthy neighbourhood. I wanted to keep working after the wedding, but it wasn't allowed; Charles said 'no'. I was given excellent references. I still have the letters, they're some of the only things I brought with me."

Esme looked wistful for a moment, smiling softly before her face fell and she spoke more.

"Everyone was happy for us. But behind closed doors, he was a brute. I didn't know this until just before the wedding and it was too late to back out. I failed to smile the right way when he introduced me to a friend—he accused me of flirting, called me the most vile names and slapped me across the face. No one had ever struck me before and I was frightened.

The Archbishop himself was coming to marry us, everyone who was anyone was invited. My mother and father spent a great deal of money for the biggest wedding of the year, no, the biggest wedding of the town." Esme paused and let go of one of Bella's hands.

In the faint light Bella could see a hankie in Esme's hand. She brought it up to her lips first, wiping her eyes before continuing.

"I had learned not to expect much. He gave all his kindness to his wealthy patients. He had nothing left when he got home. Our first night was shamefully painful, he was very drunk and spoke in disgusting terms. I knew it would hurt, my mother advised me, but I didn't know it would hurt that much. I kept to my bed for three days before I could walk again.

He had rules, many changeable, strange rules. If I failed to follow them, he would strike me and then would make me get on my knees to beg his forgiveness. I had no one to turn to, no escape; he controlled everything. My _abuela_ died soon after I married, she never knew, thankfully, what he was really like. I was too ashamed to tell my parents or anyone else.

Eventually, I became with child, with Alicia. He wasn't happy. Charles accused me of betraying him, even though I hardly ever left the house. He took to pinching my arm, the underneath just before it meets the shoulder, that very tender part. He knew no one would see the marks there. I was black with bruises and it hurt to move.

After Alicia was born, he let up with his rigid rules and punishments for a few weeks. Mostly, he was pleased that she was born a girl, so he let me alone. He said he'd be furious if a boy came from my body. I have no idea why; he never explained his fury over boy children, even when asked.

When Alicia was six months old, I was with child again. He was so angry. Charles didn't want the one child we had, let alone two of them. And this one could be a boy. He began to trip me if I walked past him. He'd wait around a corner and catch me unawares. Charles was becoming insane, but what could I do? I couldn't leave, there was no possibility of divorce or escape. The entire town loved him like a favourite son. He owned me and held his power over me.

Finally, that spring, he dismissed the staff, giving them a week off for Cinco de Mayo celebrations. He locked me and Alicia in the pantry for two days. There was food, but no water. Alicia was still at my breast, but I had nothing, a couple of onions maybe but not much else. There was just enough room to sit and a small basin for us to … use.

When he came to let us out, he had a knife in his hand. I knew this was the end for me, but I begged for Alicia's life. On my knees, I pleaded for her safety. Charles agreed to send her to my parents and I thanked him—I had to thank him. I tucked Alicia in a basket on the floor and slowly got to my feet, dizzy from thirst and hunger. I tried to convince him to kill me in the washroom, so he could clear away the blood and no one would know. In truth, Bella, I didn't want him to kill me in front of my child.

As soon as I was out of the pantry, he turned on Alicia. He tried to stab my baby girl, just ten months old, my beautiful baby!

I couldn't let him hurt her. I ran at him, smacking and hitting him with my hands. I found the strength, from where, I don't know, but I did. I got the knife away from him somehow, and screamed at him to leave. I told him to run and never look back. I said I'd ruin him, tell everyone what kind of man their good doctor really was. He looked at me with such hatred in his crazy eyes; his face bone-white and dripping with perspiration.

And then he ran into my knife. He ran into my knife _four_ times."

The weight of her confession made the dark walls close in on the both of them as the lie settled at their feet. Bella had to glance upward to the faint light streaming through the hole in the floor. She drew a deep breath, letting the faint musty smell of the cellar wash over her face as Esme continued to speak.

"They believed the story I told, the story I had to make up. The town, the _Policía_ and my family. No one dared to to accuse me, they were too shocked to lose their precious Doctor Evanson to a thieving vagrant who disappeared without a trace. I think— I think they knew, deep down, what kind of man he was. He didn't hide it all that well from anyone but the highest of society, so they let me kill him and get away with it. But I couldn't stay there any longer. I moved my daughter up to New Mexico Territory and we started a new life. A few old friends of mine stayed in touch, good friends like Rosalita's parents. They had named me her godmother, so I had to go collect my angel when they died. I was given the job here as soon as we returned from Oaxaca."

Bella gathered Esme in her arms and held her as they both cried. Bella stroked Esme's hair and whispered in her ear, soothing words about forgiveness. When the crying slowed to soft sobs, Bella asked.

"What happened to the baby?"

"I miscarried. Charles stole my baby from me and may he burn in hell!" Esme made the sign of the cross with her index finger and thumb pressed together and brought her fingers to her mouth to kiss them. "Part of the reason people wanted to believe my story, the whole town knew how much I adored all children, not just my own. When they found us, Alicia was screaming in the pantry, Charles was on the floor, dead and I was beside him bleeding, filthy and beaten."

Bella pulled Esme to the ladder and gestured for her to go up, following quickly behind. Once the hatch was closed, she poured them both a cup of tea, laced very generously with Edward's whiskey. They stood in front of the stove and drank.

"Is this why you won't accept Carlisle? Your secret?"

"Yes. If he knew, he would leave me. If anyone else knew, I'd be lost."

"Esme, I'm going to say this once and then we won't ever speak of it again. I think you did the right thing, saving Alicia and yourself from that monster and I think you should marry Carlisle. He's nothing like Charles. He loves you. He would die for you. He'd never raise a hand to you or your girls, ever. Give yourself a chance for real love. Give yourself a real man. Give your girls a real father."

"But if he finds out? He'll leave, I know he'll leave. I do love him Bella, but I couldn't live if he left me. My heart, it isn't whole." Esme slid into her chair, her cup held very loosely in her hand.

"I think of all people, Carlisle would be the one to best understand why you had to do what you did. He would understand and still love you."

Esme thought about what Bella said for a long time. Long enough for Bella to soak the fruitcakes, make the biscuits and heat the stew. Esme seemed not to notice the sun begin to set and the day dying. With a start, she looked up to find Bella sweeping the kitchen.

"I'll have him." She declared. "If he asks again, I'll accept him. I'll marry Carlisle."

Bella put the broom back in its corner and drew Esme into a hug. Outside, the sound of the wagon bringing the rest of the family home could just be heard coming over the ridge.

 **AN: On a whim, I started a facebook group for my stories. Not much happens there because I'm quite boring, but you're more than welcome to join and spice things up. It's under the brilliantly witty name of ... get this ... Shouldbecleaning stories.**

 **One more chapter before the end of this tale. I'll miss it so but it's been about a year of planning, writing and editing for this story. I'm kind excited about what comes after.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	34. Chapter 34

**I own nothing that pertains to the Twilight Universe. Many, many thanks to Vagabonda, Beachcomberlc and IpsitaC77 for their help and guidance with this chapter. Beachcomberlc would like it known that a box of tissues or a fine lace hanky is needed for this chapter. Vagabonda has been confined to bed-rest for the better part of this week but still managed to edit for me.**

 **Chapter 34**

Esme and Bella were able to hide their discomfort from the heady conversation of earlier that afternoon and participate in that evening's festivities. The adults supervised the trimming of the tree, the brightly coloured garland stood out against the dark green of the fir and lent an air of whimsy to the house. Bella found she dearly missed the candles she used to enjoy as a girl—to her, there was nothing prettier than a candle-lit tree in a dimmed room. Gifts were piled beneath the tree, at least two for every child and a few for the adults.

Christmas was a joyous, festive occasion for all. The piñata Esme made for Rosalita was very popular with all of the children, as well as the adults. Jasper, as the youngest, was first to strike, Edward held him high enough, but Jasper missed. Alice's hit was feeble, Emmett's failed to do enough damage. Rosalita hit quite hard, knocking two of the spikes to the ground. The grown-ups pretended to hit, leaving the final piñata breaking to the children. Edward made a big show of his turn, pretending to confuse Carlisle's head with the seven-pointed piñata. He had to restrain himself from hitting his old friend too hard, but Carlisle definitely felt the blows, shaking them off while playing it up.

"You won't find any candy if you break open my head there, pal."

Carlisle led the laughter and slugged Edward playfully on the shoulder. Their friendship was well restored, with Carlisle ceding the upper hand to Edward for the first time, acknowledging the younger man's experience.

Rosalita struck the final blow that had the children sprawling across the floor in search of treats. Emmett didn't realize half of his candy stash was included with the piñata's offerings as he scrambled to collect as much as possible.

The presents were the biggest draw, with all children squealing with delight when they opened their parcels, save for Emmett. He hid his feelings very well, however Bella noticed the smile on his face drop when he opened the quilt she had made for him.

She'd used scraps in shades of blue to make him a blanket, lighter at the top and darkening along the length. Emmett made no secret that his favourite colour was blue, so Bella worked hard to fashion the quilt for him. It was longer and wider than his other quilts, specifically to fit the bed in the loft where Emmett would make his room in a few months.

Bella had hoped he would like it—Emmett smiled and thanked her with a hug, but the smile did not reach his eyes. Bella set aside her disappointment and concentrated on the rest of the gift openings.

For Edward, Bella had made a thick woolen pullover sweater. She had attempted for the first time to cable knit, and as a result, some of the patterns were crooked and incomplete. But it was warm, soft and made with love. Edward held it aloft to show everyone else, then pressed it to his nose. The sweater still held her scent. He thanked her, quirked his mouth to the side in a lopsided smile and sniffed it again.

Edward, for his part, carved a small treasure box for Bella. He painstakingly chiseled her name, the year and an intricate floral vine into the lid. Hours spent sanding, smoothing and oiling the wood brought out the colours of the grain. Bella teared up when she opened it, for Edward had lined it with some of the fabric she had set aside from quilting, and nested inside were her mother's combs.

Jasper was delighted with every present everyone opened. Papa and Mumby had made him a small wagon to pull around the yard and a large felted bunny to cuddle at night.

For the girls, Bella had sewn new pinafore aprons. Carlisle received a new flannel shirt and a half gallon jug of Edward's nicest whiskey. Bella had arranged some of her finest preserves in a small crate for Esme as a gift, lining the box with a set of new table napkins she had embroidered for her friend.

Christmas dinner was sumptuous; a well-smoked ham with mounds and mounds of roasted vegetables, pillowy biscuits, Bella's liquor-soaked fruit cake, coupled with Esme's caramel flan. Carlisle's contribution was two bottles of fruit wine and a large jug of cordial for the children. Everyone ate their fill of the feast and then some.

After dinner, young and old entertained each other with carols and other fun songs, with Bella on the piano and Carlisle breaking out his concertina. Rosalita tried in vain to teach Emmett and Jasper a song in Spanish. Tiring, everyone gathered around the fire, dozy and replete, listening as Edward and Carlisle took turns reading stories from the children's new books, their gifts from Esme. It was an early night, followed by a late morning and a lazy day after for all of them.

* * *

By the twenty-ninth, it was time for Esme and her girls to head back to town. Esme's last order of business before the wagon was loaded and the gifts stowed, was to administer a comprehensive examination to Emmett. Bella and Edward wanted to make sure he was learning at the proper rate for his age. The town school serviced the population through grade eight, although Esme offered help for those who wanted to continue their education through high school by correspondence and tutoring, if needed.

Well-to-do families throughout the mountains sent their boys to boarding school in Denver. Edward wasn't sure he wanted Emmett or Jasper to have to go away for school. Not that far away; to town maybe, but not too far. He wasn't sure it was all that necessary for them to have a high school education if they were going to be farmers like himself. If the boys chose another job, another life than farming, Edward realized he'd have to let them go. It wasn't up to him to control their lives like his father did. If every year was like this last one, he'd have enough money saved up to send both of them if they wanted, but it would be a struggle if there were more children.

Edward found himself watching Bella very carefully to see if maybe, just maybe, she was starting to carry his child. He wanted more children, as many as Bella would give him. Sometimes, late at night, they would talk about it in broad terms. A couple of pretty little girls like their mother to help around the house and a couple boys to work the farm with him and make it a truly profitable spread. Edward really liked babies, bathing them, feeding them, walking the floor with a sleepy babe in his arms; he enjoyed all of it. Perhaps not so much the toileting, but all the rest he enjoyed. While watching Esme and Bella ready Emmett for his test, Edward added teaching to the list of childrearing jobs he'd rather avoid.

Emmett was full of piss and vinegar both before and after the exam. He didn't think any more learning than he'd already had was necessary, let alone all the way through the eighth grade. He wanted to be a trapper, just like Carlisle. The boy fussed and fumed until Carlisle sat him down and mentioned that he himself had a full high school education before moving away from home.

With the wind out of Emmett's sails, Esme graded his exam then and there, proclaiming him just over grade level. Emmett puffed out his chest and gladly took the new set of school books Esme had brought for him. She'd give him another exam in six months. Jasper had a much easier test and passed with flying colours. Over dishes and food preparation, Esme and Bella had came up with lesson plans for both boys to keep them on track. Esme praised Bella for her teaching skills.

Preparing to leave was bittersweet for everyone; Jasper pouted, Rosalita was upset enough to cry. Esme and Bella shared a long, teary hug while Carlisle clapped Edward on the back.

* * *

Emmett was a difficult student for the next few weeks. Winter was prime time to learn with fewer chores to do outside and inclement weather hindering outdoor play. But something other than having to work sums was weighing on the boy, and he took his temper out on everyone around him. Only Leah and Bullet were spared his ire.

Things came to a head late in January after a couple of bright sunny days. Bella had taken advantage of the nicer weather and laundered every piece of fabric she could get her hands on. She found the quilt she had made for Emmett tucked under his bed even though the last time she made up his bed she had smoothed it over the covers. Bella tried not to be heartbroken at the idea he didn't like her gift to him, but it was hard, with his temper of late.

Bella took the blanket from his room and moved it to the loft. Deciding not to press the issue in the warmer months while they were all in a better mood, Bella thought she'd wait until winter to bring it up again. After all, Emmett was unlikely to confront her about the loss.

Emmett had, of late, been disturbed, plagued by bad dreams of his mother. Memories of her illness and death unsettled and saddened him. The poor boy was torn in two. The green quilt he'd been using, Mama had made just for him. He wanted to honour his mama, but he really liked the new blue quilt and wanted to have it on his bed as well. However, two quilts was too heavy and hot for the little boy, and the green one was starting to fray.

When Emmett noticed the blue quilt was gone from under his bed, he decided Mumby didn't love him anymore. He waited until he found her alone on the porch with the wash tub full of steaming water. Pretending to ignore her for a long time, he kept poking his finger into the pile of snow on the porch railings. When he could no longer hold it in for fear of bursting, he flat out asked Mumby why she took the quilt back.

She explained she didn't want him to feel obligated to use the quilt just because she made it for him. Mumby told him where the quilt was, that she made it to fit the dimensions of the loft bed for when he was big enough, so she had put it up there.

The next day, Bella had an armful of clean shirts and drawers to put away in Jasper's dresser. She was surprised, pleased and confused to see the edge of the blue quilt just under Emmett's bed. Little was said about it until Emmett woke the whole house screaming one night.

Bella was the first to reach him, Edward trailing just behind. Jasper sat up in his bed, wide-eyed and scared. As soon as his father appeared, Jasper raised his arms, silently demanding to be picked up. Bella sat at the edge of Emmett's bed and stroked his hair. His screaming stopped, but painful sobbing was left in its wake. Bella tried shaking him gently, and had to resort to calling his name to get him to wake out of his nightmare.

Emmett didn't say anything about his nightmares, other than to say he was cold. Bella added the blue quilt to his bed, folding the excess over his shoulders. She kissed his forehead and rubbed his back until he fell asleep again. Edward lay the sleeping Jasper back in his bed and they tiptoed back to their own room.

The same thing happened the next night and the night after that. Emmett would wake up in the morning drenched in sweat from too many blankets and being overheated. Breakfast would see him drinking several glasses of cold milk to replenish. Trying to head off the fourth occurance, Bella tucked Emmett into bed that evening with both quilts and stoked the fire with huge logs.

All of her precautions failed. Emmett still woke screaming in the night. Edward stayed in their bed upon Bella's insistence. Bella crawled into Emmett's little bed and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. She whispered calming words in his ear and told him how much he was loved. Bella took a chance when he was in a half-sleep and asked him about his troubles. He mumbled in his sleep, confessing something that made Bella break into silent tears.

The next day, Bella asked Edward if he would mind Jasper for the afternoon as she and Emmett had an errand to run.

"There's something Emmett and I need to take care of. Just the two of us."

Edward knew from the look on her face not to ask, this was something special between Emmett and Bella. When they came back to the house, both pink-cheeked from the cold with tracks from tears on their faces, Edward jumped up to hug them both, folding them into his warm embrace.

"We're fine, aren't we, Emmett?" Bella responded when Edward asked. With a pointed look she let Edward know not to ask any further questions. Emmett nodded, tired and quiet. He ate a huge bowl of stew and went to bed exceptionally early for a boy of seven. Once Jasper was also down for the night, Bella led Edward into their bedroom and burst into tears herself.

Holding and rocking her in his lap, Edward listened as Bella told him about Emmett's dreams and what they did that afternoon. Emmett had been wracked with guilt, and it manifested itself in nightmares. The quilt Bella had made him for Christmas was the trigger. Talk of going away for school and growing up plagued him. He loved the blue quilt, but he also loved the green one his mama made for him. And Mama wasn't alive to make him any more, or to fix the one he had, so it was extra special to him. But he didn't want to hurt Bella's feelings. He loved Mumby and he still loved his mama. He tore himself to pieces over them and the quilts. In his dreams, Emmett wasn't cold but Mama was, and Emmett didn't know how to help her. He felt as though it was his fault she was cold and lonely.

Bella's solution was simple, heartbreaking and something only she and Emmett could do together. They took the quilt she made, found a small shovel in the barn and went to Rachel's grave. Taking turns, they cleared the snow from Rachel's grave until they were almost down to earth. Emmett laid the blue quilt over his mother and weighted it down with some stones at the edges. Then they sat and talked for a while on the pile of snow beside the grave.

Emmett's nightmares ceased, but from then on, Bella had to be the one to tuck him in at night.

 **AN: Yeah, so I lied. This was to be the last chapter before the epilogue. There will be one more. Sorry about the deception.**

 **This story is loosely based on the film, _Rachel and The Stranger,_ RKO Radio Pictures c. 1948.**

 **I neglected to give a nod to Chicago, book by Fred Ebb and Bob Fosse, music by John Kander, c. 1975 - for stealing a little part for Esme's confession.**

 **Thank you for reading.**


	35. Chapter 35

**Without further ado:**

 **Chapter 35**

Colorado - 1893

It certainly wasn't in his plans when he woke that morning, but somehow, someway, Edward Masen left his farm on a late spring morning to stock up on supplies with his children and a long list from his darling wife. He had planned to spend the warm, spring day repairing fence posts, but Bella insisted he had to go to town instead.

Bella had begged off the trip to town for supplies, citing a need to give the house a good spring cleaning without any males underfoot. She said she needed some time alone; to hear herself think, as she put it.

Emmett had grown three inches over the winter. He never failed to kiss his Mumby's cheek every morning and give her a firm hug every night. Jasper gained five inches and was sporting his first pair of knickerbocker trousers, a present for his fourth birthday. Gone were the baby dresses, now that he had big-boy pants to wear. Papa had taken him outside for the time-honoured, traditional lessons a man in trousers needed to know - how to pee outdoors without hitting your boots and how to button up and not pinch yourself in the process. It was a very serious, manly talk that saw Bella in fits of laughter as she listened from the porch.

It had been a long winter, but homey and comfortable. There had been plenty to eat and they were seldom at a loss for entertainment. Jasper learned his letters and to spell simple words. Emmett worked his way through addition and subtraction and was forging through multiplication. His reading and writing had improved, although his spelling was atrocious and he found himself liking geography more than he figured.

February saw a quick visit from a newly-engaged Carlisle. Puffed up and prancing like a sage grouse, he stopped off to deliver the news. The wedding was set for the end of the school year, late June. Carlisle would still build a small home on his land, a combination hunting lodge and summer cottage. Esme had purchased a large home on the edge of town, near enough to the schoolhouse for her and the girls to walk every day.

Carlisle confessed he had no idea Esme was exceedingly wealthy when he proposed. He admitted to being a bit frightened of her wealth at first, but decided to enjoy whatever life with Esme and the girls might bring. Carlisle made enough of his own money trading goods with a few of the local tribes, getting their handicrafts into mercantiles and general stores across the region. His resolute masculinity was bolstered knowing he contributed to the family coffers as well.

* * *

Edward reached town and dropped the boys off at the hotel for cake under the watchful eye of Mr. Yorkie. Jasper had his birthday coins to spend and wanted restaurant treats rather than candy. The hotel kitchens made ice cream, something Mumby couldn't make for them, so this was an extra special treat.

The only plan Edward had was to go to the mercantile. Mr. Newton, his crotchety wife, and the clerk were all engaged with customers, so Edward decided to begin the shopping on his own. How hard could it be to gather a few items? Other than the usual staples of flour, oats, sugar and such on the grocery list, Bella had written in very large letters:

6 yards white flannel

3 yards absorbent cotton

10 yards plain white cotton shirting

8 lengths white ribbon

5 spools of white thread

3 pounds fine soft white yarn

Edward had no idea why she was so specific about needing all these white sewing things, but if that's what she wanted, that's what he'd get her.

Before he left to go to town, Bella had brought up the fact that the thunder mug Emmett and Jasper shared in their room was quite chipped and dented. In fact, all of the chamber pots in the house were chipped and starting to show rust spots. Bella asked him to replace them, with one for everyone. Edward thought it a bit frivolous, given the purpose of the basins, but he didn't argue. She'd been commenting about strong odors of late, not that he noticed any, but he deferred to her judgement. The last item on Bella's list was five new chamber pots.

Edward dutifully pulled five of the enamelled basins from the shelf and added them to his crate. He felt a mite silly buying such intimate items. Next time, he'd make Bella do that part. Seemed more fitting for the woman of the house than the man to buy that kind of thing.

Mrs. Newton was able to help him with the fabrics and then counted up his purchases. It didn't pass Edward's notice that Mrs. Newton kept eying him and smiling as if she knew a secret and longed to share.

As she sorted through his purchases she asked, pointedly, "How is Mrs. Masen feeling?"

"Bella's fine." He answered, furrowing his brow. Mrs. Newton was never the real friendly sort to ask after others.

Mrs. Newton turned to reach something from the shelves behind the counter and plunked a jar and a tin into Edward's order.

"Tell Mrs. Masen these are a gift from me, if you please. She'll know why." Mrs. Newton gave him a broad smile, the first ever in all the time he'd known her. He took his hat off and scratched a little itch on his forehead, just below his hairline. He was confused and a little overwhelmed with her odd behaviour.

"All right then, thank you, Mrs. Newton."

He read the labels of the items Mrs. Newton included—boiled ginger sweets and ginger tea. Chalking it up to some woman thing, he let it slip from his mind the moment he read it.

Edward added a few peppermint sticks to his order at the last moment, as a little walking-home treat. He also threw in a small bag of caramels for Bella, hoping she would enjoy them enough to possibly make caramels for them at home.

As Edward paid his bill, he marvelled at the fact that it was less than in years prior, and took pride in the fact that he now had such a frugal wife. He gathered his boys and they began their journey home.

It did not escape Edward how different this trip home was from the one he had taken the same time last year. He'd been so lost, so confused and stupid. Thinking it over, Edward decided he really _was_ stupid back then. He'd learned a great deal over the past year—about life, about himself and most importantly, about his lovely wife. Bella was everything he never knew he needed and everything he ever wanted, all wrapped in one small package.

Even after they scaled the big hill and walked all along the boring stretch of road home, Edward thought how every step was leading him back to her. For him, it seemed that every road, every action always led back to Bella.

Edward wondered how she was occupying her time alone on the homestead. He pictured her filling the tub in front of the fire and soaking the weariness from her bones. Imagining the way the soap would slip against her wet skin, the path the bubbles might take, Edward envisioned how she might run her hands over her slippery flesh, her head back and eyes closed.

Just last night, in a fit of passion, his wife had climbed onto his lap and slowly rocked the both of them to a sweaty completion. Remembering Bella as she was scarcely a few hours before, was a vision he would revisit as often as possible. A slow, sly smile crept across Edward's face as he now pictured her in the bath instead, glistening and flush in the steamy water.

Frequent lovemaking with his wife was keeping Edward a very contented man. The fact that Emmett and Jasper had learned to sleep through Bella's shrieking in the night only encouraged Edward in making it his life's mission to make her shriek like that as loudly and as often as possible.

With great delight and through tender exploration, Edward found Bella had this secret little spot between her legs that set her shrieking if pressed just right. Edward wondered if other men knew about this, or if it was just special to Bella's body. Rachel sure as hell never had one, or hers was broken, because she never acted as wild in bed as Bella did once he touched that magical spot. It was like the difference between sitting in a real church and going to a tent revival—one was boring, quiet and stodgy, and the other was singing, dancing and writhing about.

It certainly was eye opening for Edward. He had thought about pulling Carlisle aside and filling him in on this new information, but he decided to wait. Carlisle deserved to have to find out on his own.

Edward was pleased—plum-tuckered, but pleased with his newly found skill, reaping the benefits just as much as Bella did. His sweet wife had become even more amorous than before, when they were first married, well, since first sharing a marriage bed. Almost every night she'd be ready and willing. Other than her monthly time, that is, and even then, Bella would touch him in ways no other ever had.

He blushed at the memory, but once she had even put him in her mouth and sucked. It was one of the most glorious feelings ever in the entire world. Edward had to stop this line of thinking and fast—before one of his boys caught sight of the front of his pants and the tent he was pitching there. Emmett had already gotten out of the cart and was looking for bugs under rocks several yards down the road behind them.

Calculating the grocery list again in his head calmed his body down and slowed his mind's racing. Edward looped Jessie's lead around her neck for a moment and walked to the back of the cart.

Jasper was asleep, tucked amid the sacks, so Edward took quiet care in finding the peppermint sticks he had bought. He tucked a piece of the candy in the side of his mouth and twirled it for a moment before catching up to his horse. Old Jessie nudged him with her nose, but kept walking at a steady slow pace. He let the cool sweetness pool on his tongue for a bit as he walked.

Edward had also treated himself to a new axe, as his was starting to wear out. The handle on the old one had to be replaced too many times and the blade wouldn't keep its sharp edge no matter how often he sharpened it.

Thinking of the other things he purchased, Edward began to wonder what Bella planned to do with all that white stuff—the ribbons and yarn and fabric. He really hoped she wasn't planning on outfitting all of them in white. There was no way on God's green earth his sensible, frugal wife would do something that absurd.

Usually, only young ladies and babies dressed in all white. Bella wore darker colours, red, blue or green. She had a grey dress that she didn't wear very often, only around the same time as her monthlies; but all her underclothes _were_ white. Perhaps Bella planned to make all of them new underclothes. That would be a good use of all that white fabric, but Edward hoped none of his or the boys' would have ribbons. Ribbons weren't manly, and the heck if he knew what she was going to do with that much of it.

Contemplating Bella's underthings caused Edward's mind to go right back to their nighttime adventures. He pinched his own thigh hard and forced his mind back to less enjoyable things.

Edward could just see the roof of the house in the distance. A couple of the shingles were beginning to curl and would need replacing. He wondered what other chores would have to be done before planting began. The outhouse could use a coat of paint, too. After all, they'd be using it more now that the weather was better.

His mind went back to the basins. Edward thought it was odd that Bella asked him to buy five chamber pots when there were only four of them in the family. He'd heard of having special towels and linens for guests, but not thunder mugs.

Perhaps Bella noticed something about the outhouse Edward hadn't. There had been more guests of late. Maybe the one they had was nearing full. This fall might be a good time to dig another outhouse. Edward was careful to keep as much sawdust as possible from his projects in the barn, just as Bella saved the ashes from the hearth and stove. They mixed the two together, and a scoop of the powder sprinkled down the hole after each visit to the outhouse kept the stink and flies at bay. Why would they need five chamber pots? Bella even kept the slop water barrel smelling clean with some sort of herb concoction.

Edward's mind kept running; from chores, to Bella, to making love, to chamber pots and ribbons, back to Bella—over and over again.

Before he knew it, Edward was standing in front of the house staring at Bella as she stood on the porch. She had one hand on her hip and the other was clutching a hand towel to her mouth. Her eyes were wild and bright and though her hair was down, she had it tucked behind her ears to keep it out of her face. As she cocked her head to the side and stared back at him, a blush began to creep up her neck.

Smiling at his pretty wife, Edward threw Jessie's lead over the mare's neck and, walking to the back of the cart, began unloading. Emmett took one of the smaller crates of goods into the house. Jasper was given the axe, with its leather guard strapped on tight, and asked to rest it just by the door to the barn. Edward lifted out the biggest crate and carried it into the house, passing Emmett, who was on his way back out the door.

Bella made no effort to help, instead, she sat on the rocking chair and watched the activity, slowly rocking back and forth with her hands on her lap.

Emmett ran off to play with the dogs as Edward brought in the last of the purchases. The last crate held the damn chamber pots and the brown paper-wrapped parcel of fabric, yarn and notions Bella had requested.

Edward didn't say anything as he passed by his lovely wife, just a flashy grin and a wink. Bella looked up at him and smiled, but made no effort to get up or go back into the house.

Moments after he entered the house, Edward dropped the crate, making a god-awful clatter and ran back out the door to the porch.

He pointed a finger at her and proclaimed,

" _We do need five basins. You're having a baby!"_

"I know I am." Bella confirmed with a teary smile.

"You're having a baby?"

"Yes, Edward. You are too, you know."

Bella's gentle laughter spurned him into action. Edward rushed over and picked her up out of the rocking chair, spinning them in circles. He didn't stop until she pounded on his shoulders with her fists.

"Put me down, silly man." Edward had stopped spinning, but still held her aloft. "You know, when I came here a year ago as your servant, you said I'd be left unmolested by you. This is not unmolested, Edward."

Reeling slightly, Edward set Bella on her feet, and holding her close, clasped her face in his hands.

"You're having a baby." He whispered. Bella nodded.

"Do you need anything? Should I go to town? What can I get for you?" Edward rambled, not taking a breath.

Bella looked at her husband's handsome, but confused face. She turned and gazed out over the small barnyard and farm that had become her most favourite place on this earth.

Emmett was jogging out of the barn, Bullet and Leah close on his heels. Jasper and his little shadow, Ralph, had met up at the workshop door and were running over to them. The sound of the creek could be heard just above the children's chattering to each other.

Grasping her by the waist, Edward sat them both in the rocking chair, and held her tenderly on his lap.

"I think I have everything I need right here, Edward."

She raised her hand and, stroking the soft hair just behind his ear, leaned in and kissed her husband, a smile still on her face.

 **AN: This story would not be this story without Vagabonda, who made me write it better and gave it more romance. Or without Beachcomberlc, who gave it lustre and shine. Or without IpsitaC77, who turned the story into a picture.**

 **My thanks and a nod to RKO Pictures, Stephenie Meyer and others for the source material.**

 **There will be an epilogue to follow but for now this tale is finished.**

 **Thank you for reading and thank you for letting me write this story.**


	36. Chapter 36

**I have many people to thank for this story. MinKelly who gave me some toilet training education and Ceceprincess1217 who kept Carlisle in line. RKO Radio Pictures, Loretta Young, William Holden and Robert Mitchum for their engaging performances. IpsitaC77 for creating a beautiful banner and holding my hand. Beachcomberlc, who organizes my thoughts. And Vagabonda who scrubbed and polished every word and phrase until it was ready. I would be awash without them and you, dear reader. Thank you for reading.**

 _ **Epilogue**_

* * *

 _Charlotte Riley Cheney_

 _AP US History_

 _April 27, 2017_

 _Assignment: Choose a branch of your family tree and follow it back as far as you can._

My mother, Margaret Cheney ( _née_ Newton), was born in 1976, here in Fort Collins. She teaches third grade at Bacon Elementary School.

Emily Newton ( _née_ Yorkie), my grandmother, was born in 1947 and was, in her words, "a complete surprise". Her father, my great-grandfather Tyler Yorkie, was stationed in Washington, D.C. during World War II while my great-grandmother stayed here in Colorado. She worked and raised their three children on her own while he was away. His tour of duty ended ten months before Emily was born.

My great-grandmother, Lucy Yorkie ( _née_ Masen) was born in 1908. She was the first person in our family to go to college and earn a degree. She holds a Masters in Library Science and worked for the Denver School District. She attended Morgridge College, which later became part of The University of Denver. Her brother, Jacob, attended the same college, but left after two years, deciding to work on the family farm.

These are all interesting, smart women who worked hard in life and raised loving families, but in my research I became most impressed with Lucy's mother, Isabella.

My great-great grandmother Isabella Masen ( _née_ Swan) was born in 1872, in Newport, Rhode Island to Charles and Renee ( _née_ Higginbotham) Swan.

Renee, second of four daughters born to Reginald and Eula Higginbotham, was disowned by her wealthy family upon her insistence on marriage to someone not of her family's choosing or social rank.

Eula Higginbotham ( _née_ Claypoole) was a kissing cousin to Cornelius Vanderbilt, and enjoyed all the wealth and prestige that went with that association. Reginald was new money and not quite of the right class, but their marriage was still considered a good match.

The family scandal began in 1870, when Charles Swan was engaged as a piano teacher for the Higginbotham daughters. Swan had no family nor formal education but played piano well enough to be sought after as accompanist or soloist during the social season. Swan was the son of a very well-known New York opera singer and came by his musical talents naturally.

Upon her elopement with Charles, Renee was stricken from the family bible, but given an allowance of seven thousand dollars per year from her grandmother Claypoole's trust, as were all the Higginbotham daughters. Charles Swan had no living family, little savings and a very unreliable income.

The Swans, with two-year-old Isabella, moved to England in 1874 to embrace a bohemian lifestyle and to find work for Charles. Together, they spent the next twelve years moving around Europe from concert hall to concert hall. Charles tried his hand at composing, but never quite made a name for himself as his compositions were not well received by the Europeans. The family lived well due to the trust; it was their main source of income.

According to her death certificate, Renee Swan died of a bilious fever weeks after they journeyed back to the United States in the spring of 1886. Charles informed her family, none of whom attended the services for Renee. Instead, the Higginbothams sent a lawyer to inform the widower that the trust did not include rights of survivorship. They refused to amend it for what they considered an illegitimate marriage, in effect disowning Isabella entirely.

With no savings of his own, nor means to fight Renee's family on Isabella's behalf, Charles attempted to work as a conductor and musician in New York for a few months. However, grief over his wife's death robbed Charles of his passion for music.

He decided, foolheartedly, to try his hand at gold-mining. Almost everything of value was sold—Renee's jewels, gowns and personal items—setting aside a few special pieces saved for Isabella. Charles used the money to invest in a gold company, buying, sight unseen, a stake and the equipment needed to start mining for gold.

Charles and Isabella journeyed first by train and then by covered wagon to Northern California, eventually finding the claim near the Nevada border.

The stake turned out to be a small cave and a section of stream for panning. Charles never made more than two hundred dollars in his search for gold before he sold his stake for a loss. He moved with his daughter to Ely, Nevada and secured jobs for both of them.

Isabella was sent to work in the kitchen of the local hotel and Charles played piano at the town's saloon. Charles ended up in debt to the saloon owner to the tune of one hundred and fifty dollars for the destruction of two pianos as well as a sizeable drinking tab.

One night, Charles was caught in the crossfire of an argument between two saloon patrons over a prostitute. He was shot in the head as he played, leaving young Isabella an orphan at the age of fifteen. According to an article found in the Ely Gazette about the fight, my great-great-great grandfather died instantly. The two patrons were hanged for his death.

Charles' debt fell to Isabella to repay. She sold what items she could, refusing to part with a set of her mother's hair combs and a few books as personal mementos.

By the beginning of 1888, Isabella had worked the debt down by fifty dollars. She worked as many jobs as she could in addition to her job in the hotel's kitchen, taking in mending and such. Isabella was living in a shared, rented room at a boarding house and was watched over by the hotel's manager and his wife.

Wildfires ravaged the town in the fall of 1888, forcing the hotel to close down. After losing her main source of income, Isabella was able to secure a job as a cook at a logging camp in northeastern Utah. The owner of the logging camp bought her debt from the saloon owner. With hard work, she was able to save almost all her pay to put towards the debt. The logging camp folded two-and-a-half-years later. The matron of the camp secured Isabella a new position.

Isabella Swan arrived in River Forks, Colorado in October, 1891. Her debt of twenty dollars was purchased by Mr. Stanley, a local entrepreneur, who then sold the rest of the debt to Mr. Edward Masen, a widower farmer. Town records show Edward Masen, age twenty-eight, married Isabella Swan, age nineteen, in May of 1892.

Isabella raised Edward's two sons from his first marriage, Emmett and Jasper, and went on to give birth to six more sons and one daughter.

Edward Masen III, born 1893,

Anthony, 1895,

Michael, 1898,

Philip, 1900,

Riley, 1902,

Jacob, 1905,

Lucy, 1908.

Isabella lived the rest of her life in River Forks, Colorado. She died in 1961 at the age of eighty-eight. Her husband, Edward, died in 1960 at the age of ninety-seven. They died a month apart and are buried side-by-side in the town's graveyard.

While listed on the official census as a farmer's wife, Isabella Masen was much more than that to our family.

When America entered World War I in 1917, five of the Masen boys were old enough to enlist. Emmett, the eldest, stayed home and contributed by maintaining his sheep farm. The wool, lanolin and meat he produced were necessary for the war effort. Jasper, who was a pastor by profession, was stationed in Boston as an Army chaplain, ministering to returning and injured soldiers. Eddie, due to weak eyesight, was determined unfit to fight, but helped with both his father's and brother's farming efforts on the homefront. Anthony and Michael entered active service and were sent to France.

Michael was killed in action in 1918 during the Meuse-Argonne Offensive, three weeks before his younger brother, Philip, turned eighteen and enlisted. Anthony was honourably discharged and came home safely. Michael is buried in the Meuse-Argonne American Cemetery, in Meuse, France.

Philip, like many other soldiers, returned home sick with the Spanish Influenza. The pandemic claimed just under seven-hundred-thousand Americans that year. After his recovery and the pandemic's abatement, Isabella and her friend Esme Cullen opened a small sanatorium in the mountains near the family farm, to help others recuperate in the clean mountain air.

The ladies began by taking in some convalescing adults who had nowhere else to go and no family to nurse them, but the purpose of the sanatorium changed as the years went by. It slowly became a refuge for women escaping abusive husbands. Esme Cullen was battered during her first marriage. Her history became part of the shelter and the driving force behind their fundraising efforts. Mrs. Cullen published a short story, posting excerpts to women's magazines of the time, about her history and the need for support for women living in the West.

However, the reason they permanently changed the focus of the sanatorium from a convalescent home to a women's shelter was Esme's eldest daughter, Rosalita. She had married the son of a prominent Salt Lake City businessman, but returned after six months of marriage, severely beaten. Rosalita took him to court and was granted a divorce, which was highly unusual for the time. She used her experience to help others, petitioning the state for women's rights, and educating people about domestic abuse. Rosalita Royce eventually married Isabella's eldest son, Emmett Masen.

Esme Cullen resigned her position at the retreat when her youngest daughter, Alice Evanson, died. Alice and Jasper Masen had been engaged, but she suffered a mental breakdown before they wed. In 1907, she was institutionalized. She was released in 1931 and committed suicide shortly thereafter. Jasper Masen never married.

In 1925, several years into the sanatorium operation, Isabella was surprised to receive a registered letter containing a sizable check made out in her name. Her mother's youngest sister, Marie Higginbotham, had died—childless, but immensely wealthy. She had divided her estate between all of her nieces and nephews, Isabella included.

It took her legal firm two years to locate Isabella in River Forks, Colorado. The inheritance was generous. There was more than enough money to pay off the remainder of Emmett's mortgage on his sheep ranch and buy a new roof for Jasper's church and rectory. Homes were purchased for each of her other children and there was plenty left to send Lucy to college. Isabella kept little of the money for herself.

In a letter I found during my research, Isabella wrote to thank the executor of her aunt's estate, stating the money would do her children well, but she had no need of any extra money, as she had her husband, Edward, and her children. She further stated that she considered herself already a rich woman because of them.

Isabella Swan Masen may not have lived a glamourous life, but she helped run the sanitorium and shelter as if every person who found themselves there was a member of her family. Esme's name may have been on the letterhead, but Isabella was known as the backbone of the operation.

The Esme Cullen Home for Women closed its doors in 1998.

The original Masen family homestead is still there, near River Forks, in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. Masens still run the farm and the sheep ranch, and every ten years we have a reunion at the old farmstead. The next one is scheduled for this fall. The cabin Edward Masen built by hand is still standing, near the creek, although no one lives there now. Isabella's rocking chair holds its place of honour on the porch, where, over the years, generations of Masens have been rocked to sleep.

* * *

 **The End**


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